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pentecostal thud

reminded that the shell
is only papier-mache
i plummet headfirst
into an extended family unit
without a tattoo
or birthmark
no one laughs 
at the notion
of great white whales
or charismatic garnishment
being new blood
pumped into dying community
& the yolk of depression
is a museum piece
the donkey of god
is tumbling backward
worthy of a larger audience
i'm whittling a halo
just for laughs