The Marx Brothers and the Moment of Epiphany
Brian Beatty

The minister scolded us under his breath --
"God doesn't need your seriousness or mine."

Then he bent
to better watch the four aged movie legends
going through their motions
in back of the pews:

The debonair straight man. The wigged mute.
The bumbling gambler. And the crooning bicyclist
with grease paint smeared
above his lip.

Our congregation didn't dare laugh.

Instead we sat there dumbly in black and white,
praying to a larger-than-life cardboard lobby display
of the alleged virgin Margaret Dumont.

Previous to this we'd never known one
brother from the next. Or remembered many jokes.

But suddenly we understood (and could see the errors of)
our early agricultural ways.

And we gathered around the church piano to sing.

1996 © 2003