Strip Mall Church

There’s no business like god
No money as decadent, as that
taken from the poor
gathered in his pew
The beggar gives his dollar
To build a strip mall church

To gut an old Pizza Hut
And make something holy on dead ground
Dollar menu pulpit
Glue stuck to the drywall behind it
Where the menu used to hang
Indulgence only $300 at the kiosk
The tongue of Saint Anthony
In the freezer in the back

Insisting you regard its holiness
Despite the unspoken truth that
You can still see the old bones from the road
No matter the LED lights they installed
To exalt the Christian rock band
The extra parking for parishioners
The coffee bar for the thirsty
The barbecue spread for the hungry
It smells of death and cheap salvation

As if Jesus
Told those who sold doves
To turn a market into his fathers house

-D.V