I was talking to a friend who’d had his prostate checked. He warned me with a beautifully confounding image: when the doctor’s finger is in the church of your ass, you’ll hear the piss bells ring.

We were on our way to buy beer, but still…I hadn’t considered my ass a church, and wondered aloud at the limits. What would be its grand cathedrals? Its paintings and stained-glass depictions of saints?

My friend said my ass sounded catholic, but he took a more protestant view. The Church of Your Ass has one job only: to fill you with doubt. Only through doubt will you ever have faith. And if you don’t have faith, he said, your doctor will make you believe.

 

 

 

guenetteMatthew Guenette is the author of two poetry collections: American Busboy (University of Akron Press, 2011) and Sudden Anthem (Dream Horse Press, 2008). He is a poetry editor for Barn Owl Review and contributes book reviews to the recently launched American Microreviews and Interviews. He lives, works, and loses sleep in Madison, WI.

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