fifty-seven
there’s ted,
of ted and betty with the green studebaker,
ted who always looked at me
like I was a strip of jerky.
crucifici on the walls.
fighting in the kitchen.
bicci and bastardi we all.
the blood-son took a dump in my pillowcase
and never spoke to me.
Smoochie, the three legged dog
would tip over
after I shotgunned cheeba up his snout.
Cheeba Royale -
that’s what the kid next door called it.
if it had a name, he could charge more.
and it was worth every penny.
best I’d had since Rotterdam.
the sheetmetal on the upstair’s window
ripped up my belly button
when I climbed out
for a night on the town.
still have the scar.
all remembered
because this popped into my head
for absolutely no reason at all …
hail mary, full of grace.
the lord is with thee.
blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
jesus.
holy mary, mother of god,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
amen.
