at our little suburban church
the communion feast is free
of allergens and alcohol
the bread crumbles into the cup
of grape juice if you’re not careful
i thought the blood of Christ was stronger stuff than this
—
at the Anglican Church
i kneel at the altar rail
to receive the Body and the Blood
the wafer tastes like cheap ice cream cones
soaked in port wine
i thought the Body of Christ was supposed to taste good
—
at the Orthodox Church at Easter vigil
the priests swing censers of spicy incense
one of them crumbles the bread into the cup —
but here you must be baptized
with their baptism to partake of supper
i thought this meal was for all God’s children
—
with feeble hands and jaded tongues
we mark this meal You set before us
but one day You will raise Your wineglass
in the New Jerusalem
the true Master of the Feast
and all the hungry shall be filled
