ALTAR BOY

by Catherine Chandler




how I would shake
confessing venial sin

in that dark space
behind that sliding door

to Father
Father Son and Holy Ghost—

an apple pilfered
from the cellar bin

a cuss word slip-up
a neglected chore

a schoolyard scuffle or a lie 
a boast—

while he who consecrated
water   wine

who baptized babies
visited the sick

was fucking me           though they
would reassign

him      allegations never seemed
to stick

because whose word was sacred
his or mine

my lexicon too simple             tongue
and dick

the bishop kicked the reverend
upstairs

before he died            but sent
his thoughts and prayers

Catherine Chandler is the author of four collections of poetry, including Lines of Flight, shortlisted for the Poets' Prize, and The Frangible Hour, winner of the Richard Wilbur Award. Currently living in Saint-Lazare-de-Vaudreuil, Quebec, she was reared in Wilkes-Barre, PA, in the Diocese of Scranton.

CREDO

by Catherine Wald






I believe in The Messiah.

Especially when the
soprano sings
Rejoice
great-
ly.

Rejoice isn’t a word
that is bandied
about much
these days,
which is
too bad.

On the other hand, I
don’t miss the
references to
sin, spitting
and smiters.

Here’s
my confession: I
love music more than
religion, more than God,
way more than country.

All the mighty chorales
of Paradise could only
play second fiddle to
a well-honed coloratura.

If Hell has the tunes, vocal
acrobatics and orchestration,
that’s where you’ll find me


Catherine Wald’s chapbook Distant, burned-out stars was published by Finishing Line Press in 2011. Poems have appeared in American Journal of Nursing, Buddhist Poetry Review, Chronogram, Dragonfly, Friends Journal, J Journal, Jewish Literary Journal, "Metropolitan Diary" (The New York Times), Minerva Rising, Quarterday Review, The Lyric and Westchester Review.  She is author of The Resilient Writer: Tales of Triumph and Rejection from 23 Top Authors (Persea 2004).