The Wardrobe's Best Dressed: Speak, My Tongue by Carrie Meadows

WHY I GO TO CHURCH
my grandmother

Mary whispered just one thing to Martha:
Did I wash the wrong man’s feet? But she meant,
How are we to know which man will feed us
and which will swing for our teeth? My savior
speaks in tongues, fists and wide open palms
to the face. Only one thing is needed,
and I am one low hum in a makeshift choir,
one bubble in a pot of stone soup,
one guitar tuned for one melody, one
drip, one deep breath in the baptismal tub,
one violet drinking water only
once a week, one ear open to the rain,
one hand raised to say, Yes Father, I am
one woman hungry for the one good man.

This selection comes from the collection Speak, My Tongue, available from Calypso Editions. Order your copy here. Our curator for December is Krista Cox.

Carrie Meadows grew up around leather workers, doll makers, quilters, and tall-tale tellers who taught her the importance of straight stitches and good stories. She teaches creative and professional writing at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga.

Krista Cox is a paralegal and poet living in northern Indiana. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Pittsburgh Poetry Review, The Indianola Review, Whale Road Review, and Pirene’s Fountain, among other places in print and online. She twice received the Lester M. Wolfson Student Award in Poetry, and has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. In her abundant spare time, Krista parents, paints, and plans community events as the Program Director of Lit Literary Collective. Learn more than you ever wanted to know about her at kristacox.me.