at the liquor store,
he's buying
a large bottle of Angelica,
while i'm
picking up
some Tito's vodka for game
time.
he tugs on his white collar
when he sees me.
Father, i say to him.
Son, he says back.
any Halloween plans? i ask him.
no, he says.
it's kind of like the devil's holiday.
oh, right. right.
he pulls out a roll of bills
to pay
for his purchase,
which makes me suspicious
having seen
so much folding money in
the morning mass
basket.
see you Sunday, he says.
of course, of course.
i'll be in my usual spot,
the last pew in the back,
by the double doors.
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