I will kill the greed in my father
…and kill the brag in my mother
I’ll assassinate the wants in my siblings
…and shut-down the expectations of my nibblings
I’ll call the curses they hide to stand
…and make them sing their hidden thoughts naked for all to understand
…that I am the debt they wished they paid with care and tenderness
…not the debtor born from their blood ties
…to pay in installation any time needs knock on their hard doors
I’ll kill the prophecies in my pastors
And kill the castigation of my elders
I’ll blind the eyes of the deacons and deaconesses who roll them to brand me queer
I’ll kill the words on the tongues of the congregation
And teach Sunday schoolers the realities of the church’s paupers
So the calls for offertory will touch not my pride
And the seed-sowing will hurt not my ego
I am sure peace will help my legs to dance free
…without sullied sins staring me down during the Lord’s Supper
For why does it feel sinful to be needy?
Why do I feel like a drying leaf
…blown by unwanted winds into a space
…where annoyed eyes seek my burn?
I’ll attack any and everything to make things right
And like Christ
…whip the arrogant drips off the leading chips
…who think money makes them superior
…in the house of the Lord
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 11, 2026.
