Where Do They Hide the Ugly Mormons?

Where do they hide the ugly Mormons?

I watch the Mormon Tabernacle Choir,
Teeth-capped and dazzling white
As snow on an Aspen ski slope,
The robed singers ooze wholesome
Family values through every pore
Of their unblemished complexions.

Even old Mormons age gracefully.
No lined, haggard smoker faces
Or jowls hanging down to one's collar.

The young missionaries that come to our door
With their offer to pray with us
To share their faith with us
To ask God to bless our house
Sport starched white shirts and ties;
They're dressed like the earnest young
Republicans that they are.
Still smiling sunnily
Despite repeated rebuffs.

Where do they hide the ugly Mormons?

It's said that the Spartans,
That warrior state of ancient Greece,
Would abandon their crippled or sickly infants
On the bleak wild of a mountainside
For the wolves to devour.

Could there be some secret slope
In Utah's Wasatch Mountain range
Where the bones of Mormon infants

Deemed "ugly"

Lay bleaching in the sun?