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The air smelled of stale cigarettes
as the priest began.
Painter’s pants, clerical collar,
cheap sandals, eyebrow ring,
and I half expected him to be tonsured
when he took off his Abercrombie hat for the
Lord’s prayer.
Our Father…
Next to him was the addict
identified solely by his habit of
Molestation.
And yet, he too
prayed.
Forgive us our trespasses...
The pigeons provided the atmosphere,
frightening the crowds
that persistently fail to notice the loss of a man
and his bench.
For thine is the kingdom…
As it concluded,
I thought of Mike,
Virginia,
and thousands of others cursed
by the negligence of a country,
and the failure of a Church.
Amen.
- Andrew Piercey
Andrew, this is gorgeous. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteas I told you Andrew, a beautiful capturing of that collection of those profound, bizarre, and strangely beautiful moments!
ReplyDeleteone other thing that stood out - the one known for molesting, and calling out for spare change - proved he knew how to pray... That very distinct voice "Does anyone have any spare change? Miss... Do you have a dollar?" .... was calling out "our father, who art in heaven, hollowed be thy name..." word for word, standing there solemnly - speaking directly to God, as I stand by just wondering at my own judgments, and perspective
Andrew, you captured moments like these well--the imagery--I could see a small chapel in Boston, I could smell the cigarettes, and most of all, I was reminded of Jesus' ministry, the call of the Church, and many ways in which we have failed.
ReplyDelete