Poetry for the Hard of Hearing
Published on May 31, 2007 By Johnny Masuda In Poetry
I was forty-seven years old
and I was finally making my first
confession

the church had seven priests in
different corners
each with a line of the confessing
my legs were wobbly and I was sweating
across my forehead like I had my
own little rain storm going on

I wasn’t sure seven priests would
be enough to clean my ass up
but I stepped up when it was my
turn sat down and did the “Bless
me Father, for I have sinned.”

he knew it was my first confession
and told me to relax and just tell
him a few things
after ten minutes of spewing my
sin all over the priest
we were both crying

he stopped me and said he was
absolving me of everything
a grand absolvo something to
cover it all

he blessed me and told me
to pray for understanding or
something like that
he wiped his head then took
his glasses off to wipe them too

when I walked away I felt lighter
and grateful I didn’t have to see all
seven priests—it was tough enough
on one

he’ll never sleep the same and I’m
clean as spring water,

glory be.

J. Masuda

Comments
on Jun 01, 2007
Wow-ee, great. You've been away too too long. Welcome back 'migo. - el Moskowitz