Worst part about church weddings is the church part.
While listening to a celibate give advice about the holy institution of matrimony,
I find an old familiar feeling as I count the light and note their focus.
I sat for years counting the triangles on the ceiling of St. Jean Vianney
Twice a week until 15, Sunday and Wednesday
Once a week until 18, Sunday
There were over 400.
I still remember the pattern.
I remember the feeling
my personal rosary.
I thought I was confiding
when I told my brother I was depressed,
but he just said “Oh, we know.”
If you knew, why did you all do nothing?
Boomers are quick to point out
participation trophies, but forget
no tolerance policies
that made a merciless generation.
If you stare too long too hard,
you’ll find the imperfections and start to
forget you’d find different ones
anywhere else. Just appreciate it.
If politics unerve you,
Rome had four emperors in just one year.
Galba, Otho, Vitillus
fell for Vespasian to take the throne.
Do you think if I left now,
anybody would notice? I checked out
early Wednesday afternoon.
40 is an arbitrary number.
Sometimes when it rains at night,
I make believe I’m in a Lo-fi track.
Hurry! Say something pithy
before the distorted melody starts.