A Tale With No Moral (tentative title)

i don't know that i like this title, but it's a very new poem. very new. if i'd written it by hand, the ink would still be wet.

tell me if you expect the end. i don't want it to be expected all the way through.



A Tale With No Moral

Pastor White had three beautiful daughters
And could never deny them anything.
Like the girls in a fairy tale they were
All tall and slender and long-haired
And virtuous. His wife too was sweet-
Tempered, quiet, cooked dinner and the sweet
Little snacks to which he couldn’t say no.

Aurora, Bianca, and Christina
Long skirts and long braids and long-
Suffering eyes like paintings of Jesus.
Model students, model daughters, models
Of Christ. As Christ is head
Of the Church, so the man is head
Of the family. The difference is
The church takes that power away
And makes its own rules.

A tall man, slender in spite
Of all the homemade deserts,
Dark hair graying, dark
Eyes I never could meet
Without seeing hellfire.

A slightly faded white farmhouse
All those old small rooms
So perfect for hide and seek, so
Many closets and crannies and dark
Corners and secrets to find.

Christina, bride of Christ,
Killed herself at sixteen.

Why?
You know.

Pastor White had three beautiful daughters
And could never deny them.