
Beatrice Iker
Poem #3: Church Pews & Bubble Gum
Updated: Dec 22, 2020

Poem #3 - excerpt from The Timeline of the Universe
Chapter: Earth
The friendship I had with my church friends was a friendship that could not be explained, or even understood - least of all by me
We stepped into the vestibule and we vibrated with energy we used to disobey our parents as often as possible
We danced down the aisle, we sang in the choir, and we bowed our heads at the altar
Some of us believed, and some of us did not, but we all understood on some level that it was important we were there
It was important that we mimicked Mother Caldwell or Deacon Jones
It mattered what we wore, how we wore it, and that someone (read: our mothers) pre-approved it
Our hair, freshly hot-combed from our grandmother’s kitchens, mattered perhaps most of all
It was a cult only we were a part of, and it was a part of our lives that only each other saw
We were so tired on Sunday mornings, but when we saw each other you would have thought Jesus had come back himself
To this day, I don’t know if the energy we experienced was similar to all AME Zion churches, or if ours was different
It had to be different
There was no way anyone else could know me like this, could have an entire conversation without a word during communion, could say something in front of our parents but understand that we were talking about something unrelated
Hushed whispers in the pews
Withered looks from this Elder or that
White stockings
Sticky thighs on wood
Tongue compressors
Stained glass
Sopranos
The blood of Christ
"I wish that were real wine!"
Maybe Dad won't yell tonight, he looks like he's having a good time
New members getting saved by a pastor who needs to be saved
Bubble gum in new flavors every week
I laughed, and laughed, and laughed
Someone cried - someone always cried
I loved them
I never told any of them about you