In Which We Serve

. . .

J-'s leather jacket and blue jeans fit

as well on Wednesday as did the collar

he wore to work on Sundays.

It was a Wednesday, and in the bar

the boy was speaking the Spanish of

J-'s extra Mass each Saturday.

They spoke. They left together.

They didn't speak of what each did

in service to God or Mammon.

Climaxing in the safety of darkness,

the boy muttered a low, unintended,

"Gracias, Diosito*, gracias."

*Diosito: diminutive form of God

Published in "Poetic Voices Without Borders" (anthology), Gival Press, 2005