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Simone Parker

on any given wednesday night / behind the local mormon church / you will find heathens engaged / in sacred revelry / a midweek sabbath / anointed with moonlight and white claws. / the ceremony begins / at dusk in a garage, with the descent / of an extension cord / down the jacob’s ladder brick / from the second story window. / motorcycles are rolled / gingerly by their mothermechanics / into the alley. like green flash / sunsets, when the tires cross / the threshold, a transformation / has been known to take place. / via extension cord to extension cord / to broken party light transference / the coochie cabana appears, / glittering. the speakers (stolen) / charge the air electric. angels descend / on mango vape smoke clouds, karaoke mics / in hand, to a chappell roan hallelujah chorus / and the cabana is declared / open. whooping, the congregation / converges. on a carpet / of flamingo shot glass fragments, / friendly spirits dance in psychedelic / whirls, a perfect mimicry of / the mirrorball above. behind / the bar among solo cup refuse / a wayward mannequin / has been known to try a striptease if / the right song is played. the lone rule: / only one margaritaville per night. / enforcement of this commandment, the apostles / whisper, is a holy duty, necessary / to keep the trickster gods at bay. / in the cabana, glitter and svedka / are taken as communion. / once you’ve swallowed the chase, / the lines between public / and private / begin to blur. / at some point in the night, / there will be nudity. you will be told / that you are loved. / someone will pee on the walls / of the mormon church. when time / has melted in the blackness / and the sky turns trans flag sunrise, / sequined believers / will roll back the stone / from their neon cave, / and ascend. / motorcycle wheels, shepherded / into the once-more-garage, / pick up diamond dust and pale / pink feathers from the floor. / at 9am, the mormon church / welcomes visitors.

Simone Parker is a poet and collage artist. She is the author of missing e. (Fernwood Press, 2025), a forthcoming collection of cut up poetry from Tumblr. Her work has appeared in wildscape, Remington Review, and bitter melon review, among others. She lives in Minneapolis. Find her online at simoneparkerpoet.com