Father George and the New Confessional

I stop by the old church
to see how things are going.
the priest, Father George, sees me

and throws his hands into the air,
and to what do we owe
this great honor, he says,
rushing over
to give me an uncomfortable hug.

uh, just passing by,
I wanted to see my old pew where
I used to sit nervously
in a state of anxiety, twitching,
with the ex-wife.

come on in, come in.
would you like me to take your
confession? we just renovated
the confessional booth.

mahogany, with new
plush cushion for those long
confessions,
one hundred per cent
cotton, cardinal red.
the kneeler is made of memory
foam.

i'm telling you, the new booth
is something to behold.

sound proof.
it even has wi-fi and blue tooth.

it's very comfortable in there.
in fact one of our parishioners
fell asleep in the middle
of her confession,
just as she was getting to the good
stuff.

he gives me a wide smile
beneath his thick beard, showing
the large gap between his front teeth.

nah, I don't have that many hours,
I've got a date tonight with
an unregistered nurse in Baltimore,
she's working her way
through med school as a  dancer.
maybe another time.

oh my, do tell, he says, scratching
at his beard. a dancer, you say?
how is the ex by the way, 
you had your own personal road
to Damascus with
that one, didn't you?

he swirls his finger around
his ear then crosses himself.

who knows, I tell him. who cares,
out of sight, out of mind.

ha, he says, good for you, don't
look back. I think the apostle Paul
said that.

no, that was Bob Dylan, I tell him.

oh, yeah, right, I get the two mixed
up sometimes. oh well. 

are you hungry, thirsty?
we just opened up a new box
of wafers, straight from
the Vatican, red wine? he says,
then laughs, just kidding,
but we do have some snacks

in the lunch room.

low carb, no sugar, he says, we're
all giving that keto thing a try.
I could fry us up a pound of bacon?

Father Smith lost fifteen pounds
the first week. we had to get
him a new gown, he was floating
in the old one. He actually had a smile
on his face. It's the happiest

i've seen him since the new

altar boys arrived last summer.

i'm good, I tell him, real good,
well, you know what I mean.
i'm not literally good, I tell him,
using air quotes around the word
good, because we're all sinners, right?

that's right original sin starts
at birth, the second you take that
first gulp of air, you're pretty
much going to hell in a hand basket.
those are the rules, sorry Charlie.

well, if it's okay with you,
i'll just go sit in my
old pew for a few minutes, 

reminisce a bit, I tell him. 

sure, sure. go on in.
kneel and pray if you'd like.
talk to the old man, he says,
pointing upwards.
good to see you again my son.
see you on sunday?

we've got some guitar players
coming in from Brazil, 

and some bongo players from Cuba, 

it should be a great mass. 

Sister Rosemary
has been practicing a new hip
hop conversion of an old hymn.
Rock of Ages,
you'll love it. it gets
the crowd jumping.

I don't know, I tell him.
maybe. i'm kind of into an R and B
mood these days,.

you know Al Green, Marvin

Gaye, that sort of thing. we'll see.