In the great withered dugs
Of Holy Mother Church
I was taught to beg God’s forgiveness
For my transgressions
Real, imagined, or only aspired to
But really, I thought,
For the sheer gall of living
For the audacity of human-ness
For the clear inexcusable lack
Of appreciation for the
Perversity of existence
As humanity
Of which I was but one
Paltry example
Now I know it’s
Not God who can forgive
But only I
For the willfulness
Of falling for that
There’s a punch to this poem, Mikels, proving the child has lost none of his lung capacity.
Ha! Busted.