Congregant

I write a lot of poems about religion. That's what 13 years of Catholic school will do to a girl.
This one was written during the spring of 2004.

Congregant

On my back, having procured
my weekly Mass-time Tic-Tac
from my grandmother’s pocketbook,
I watched the white noise of Father’s homily
bounce from wooden beam to crucifix
and tried to keep my patent leather shoes
from tapping this song into the pew:
Oh, life could be a dream (sh-boom)
If I could take you up in paradise up above …
That realization! life
could be a dream, like the one
I dreamed the night before, the one
where the fisherman statue came to life
and chased me until I fell off the pier—
the idea burned, a small mint
lodged between the Gospel and the Creed.