Different Kind of Church


poem by Lynne Schmidt

I am not the type of girl
To laugh at your joke when I don’t think it’s funny.
And your joke wasn’t funny
When it’s at my expense.
See, I don’t understand the kind of humor
Where I say I don’t like to be touched
And your hands grab my mouth
My face
And you slam your lips against mine
A baseball bat on an unsuspecting ball.
You get frustrated when I don’t open my mouth
When my tongue stays put rather than
Pour honey back into you.
I’m sure you’ve forced others to do this before,
But I will not budge.
My tongue was not meant to find high heels
And a little black dress,
And wear a muzzle to placate coworkers I honestly don’t give a shit about.
My body is an alter that demands more offerings than a boy like you can give.
You never seemed like the worshiping type as it is,
And I require boys who get on their knees every Sunday for a different kind of church.


Lynne Schmidt (she/her) is a mental health professional in Maine. Her memoir, The Right to Live: A Memoir of Abortion was the Maine Nonfiction Award Winner and a PNWA Literary Contest finalist and her poetry has received the Honorable Mention from Joy of the Pen. Her work has appeared in Royal Rose Literary, Sixty-Four Best Poets of 2018, 2018 Emerging Poets, Frost Meadow Review, Poets of Maine, Poets of New England, Maine Dog Magazine, Alyss Literary, UNE Magazine, Her Kind Vida, and others. Lynne is the founder of AbortionChat, and has been and continues to be a featured poet at events throughout Maine. She prefers the company of her three dogs and one cat to humans.   

Twitter: @LynneSchmidt   

Facebook: Lynn(e) Schmidt