Throwing Up in the DC Temple

Maybe it was envy  that churned inside me
as I looked around the room. Wondering
what healthy Mormons felt  instead of fear.

  My body forced  everyone  to consider
  what it meant to be sick in such a holy place.
  Scarlet sins on white carpet  white shoes.

I remember  the shock of the workers
as I prayed for Jesus to return  right then
and translate me  into a parable

  a nameless miracle  who walked away
  touching his stomach in sheepish gratitude.

That morning  a green tie had coiled around
my Adam’s apple  miles of dark highway
chauffeured  me to the endowment.

  I swear  I saw Satan  hurtle past us
  on the Beltway  weaving through traffic
  exhaust belching smoke  like an omen.

But it was just a guy running late
to a construction site  sipping coffee
blasting Metallica  to stay awake.