Freeing oneself from a Fundamentalist.
A revolution of sorts, and fireworks
aplenty, the explosion like so much
cherry bomb silver salute blast in air.
A cousin, a Christian Fundamentalist
but hateful, bigoted, homophobic
advocate for murder and all-around
purveyor of disrespect. Oh I would
chastise and correct with the patience
of that old man Job yet even Job
knew of limits, like when such bull
reached beyond eyeball level to scalp
follicles. Long was the struggle,
like the Amazon, and arduous the
journey, like the Himalayas this
listening to her pious judgments
and her hatred of Blacks and Catholics
and Gays, saying that they should be shot
and meaning it, holding her Bible high,
her nose upturned and claiming Heaven
even while spewing hate like a galled
fiend found where jackals thrive.
It was twenty years or there about
(240 months--yes, a long time),
and I tried to reach her
with reason and education
and science and tolerance.
Yet walls exist, and sometimes
we hit them and bang our chins
and feel the pain and shrug
our shoulders when poor waifs
run amok as even angels scream
in the presence of unholy insanity.
This demonstration was like a
watermelon balancing on a thimble
since virtue wails from black-hearted
poison poured with a grin from one
without the slightest trace of humility.
Finality: the point of enough was reached.
Fundamentalists are often barbecue: