Tuesday, October 2, 2012


Latin eyes.
Sad eyes.
Catholic eyes.

In a raincoat.

It must've rained a lot
where you lived.

You were always
in that raincoat, with him,

The children roamed
door to door,
selling the candy,
door to door,
pint-size Willy Lomans,
selling the candy, desperately, 
door to door, 
collecting coins for St Jude.

But St Jude,
made of stone,
didn't do a thing.

Once, on the school bus,
he ran up the aisle to me,
an older kid, huddled with older kids.

"I have $5.76 in my savings account!"

Eyes shining, freshly struck silver.

In your raincoat, you were always with him,
at the Communion rail, with him,