Having a Jewish mother and a Roman Catholic father
makes you ask yourself a lot of questions about God.
Today you are hunching over a pink, plastic bedpan,
your body regurgitating its gospel.
You know the florescent lights of an emergency room better
than a synagogue or a church. If a heaven is out there, you pray
that it doesn’t smell like a hospital.
By Adrienne Novy
Adrienne Novy is a poet and teaching artist from the Chicago suburbs studying Creative Writing and Education in Saint Paul, MN. Her work can be found in FreezeRay Poetry, Voicemail Poems, and on Button Poetry. She loves dogs, a good blended chai, and writing in coffee shops. She is a strong believer in that it’s possible to be both cute and powerful at the same time.