Intruders, a poem written by Mickey Kulp at
JR Korpa



written by: Mickey Kulp



We read in a circle.
The Haitian immigrant
And the white southern preacher
Read about hungry times
And desperate times.
Soft French voice almost a whisper, 
Like shadows on a bare wall,
Strong voice that flung forgiveness
From the pulpit. 
We are intruders here.
We listen. We nod like we get it.
We imagine craving cheese
And burning clothes tainted
With scarlet fever.
We nod some more.

Latest posts by Mickey Kulp (see all)