Poem of the Week--Bless Me, Father, Donal Mahoney

Sunday is when the Easter Bunny, working in close collusion with the Toucan, deposits eggs on the lawns of  unsuspecting families. (What, haven't you ever wondered how a bunny ended up with eggs?). In the meantime, though, this poem details another rite of Easter and Lent. Or, it may be a nightly thing, without the priest. Your call.

Enjoy the holiday if it applies to you, and even if it doesn't, listen to Patti Smith's song "Easter Sunday".

Oh and Happy Earth Day, too!

Bless Me, Father

by Donal Mahoney


St. Peter's in the Loop, Chicago

Two minutes more, Father Cal,
and you will hear another
of my strange confessions.
Right now, I'm outside
watching the rain on my glasses
running in rills.
Once inside I'll confess
the usual stuff
with a few variations,
none essential,
all accidental,
the same plot,
the same ploys,
the same frenetic tale
I have always to tell.

Next week, I promise,
it will be different.
Next week, I promise
I'll fall on the kneeler
and whisper
through the grille,
"Father Cal, it is I.
You know the rest."

Next week, I won't make
another list in the diner
across from St. Peter's.
Next week I'll swig
on a milkshake instead.
Father Cal, you and I
will both profit.