unable to sleep

so we do this instead…

How to Be Catholic

there’s a small statue
of a fire breathing nun
sitting not a foot
from my face, right in front of
the monitor.
i swear she looks like
my kindergarten teacher,
sister rose concepta.

religion
of my mothers, you keep me
snickering all night long.

friends of mine
got raped by priests
not one mile from here
at the house of affirmation.
we had learned about
the inquisition in school,
so we should have known
you had it in you.

religion
of my fathers, by jove,
you’ve done it again.

one priest locks a church against
vandals. another locks a church
against its parish. they all lock
the church against someone.
a pregnant woman
spontaneously combusts
as she kneels before
a mahogany altar.
a dying man spits
into the baptismal font.

religion
of my townspeople,
what could you be thinking?

never fear, i will hold my tongue,
i will remember
to be a good boy:

i will swallow this poem,
all of my poetry,
all of my dirty glory,
so that no one can see it,

and i will pretend
that it tastes like honey
and cry sweet tears for it
every time i pray.

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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