YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG BUT NOTALGIA IS THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH.

What kind of Christian am I?

Bad
Small “o” orthodox
Catholic
With an affinity
For Bohemianism
And Buddhism

Like Merton
Francis
Or Thay
Not Lefebvre
Rose
Or who I used to be

Somewhere
In between
Too earthly-minded
For any heavenly good
Too heavenly-minded
For any earthly good

I naturally hate everything
But love everyone
Without cause
Though Christians
Are the hardest to like
Apart from recent apostates

I’ve quit trying to find a home
Or pleasing my friends
I am my own worst enemy
Not the devil or “the world”
And I’m learning to love
My asshole neighbor as myself

At the corner of 4th and Walnut
I realize I am like all others
And no one is like me
I can only account for this revelation
And my intentional lack of piety
As a peculiar gift from God

This is where I have landed
Like taking a rest
At a park bench
After a long slow walk
Sitting down with my favorite book
And never getting back up

I’m still
On “the way”
Just waiting quietly alone
By a broken graffiti-lined fountain
Full of empty beer cans
Rusted pennies and wet leaves

Dressed
In an old worn-out suit
With my legs crossed
A cup of coffee
Or wine in my hand
Wishing I had a cigarette

Content
Among the stray animals
Homeless drunks
Crazy conspiracy theorists
Fresh dog shit
And overflowing trash cans

Smiling
With a hint of cynicism
As young lovers
Hold hands
Kiss
And dry hump on a picnic blanket

Laughing
Jealously
As pretentious rich Gen-X parents
Play with their spoiled kids
Or pets
They treat like humans

Shaking my head
In pleasure and disgust
At a young bride
Pissed off
Because her wedding photos
Were ruined by a frisbee golf tournament

Judging
The 40-something cougar moms
Doing hot yoga
Or the 30-something dude bros
Playing washers
Drinking Bud Light

Looking down
At my gut
And instinctively
Massaging my “bad knee”
Which tweaks my back
As joggers run casually by

The worst are millennials
Who drive up the street
And spend 45 minutes
Hanging up a hammock
To lay in for a half hour (or less)
Looking at their phone

Or the pro-lifers
Protesting abortion
With their Starbucks and Chick-fil-A
Across the street
From the pro-choicers
Marching with their Dunkin’ and vegan tacos

These are the times
I prefer to be drunk
And not sober
Because it’s so much easier to forgive others
When you’re one blackout away
From hell or the hospital

Once I saw
A proud young pious mother
Pushing a blue double baby jogger
Talking on her phone while holding a rosary
I prefer the Jesus Prayer now
It’s more true and says it all

This is where I have landed
Maybe to stay
It’s a different experience
Than going to church
Serving the poor
Or believing you’re holy

It feels worse
But I’m sure
I’m better off
In the long run
Knowing I’m a sinner
Instead of thinking I’m a saint



23 June 2019
10:00AM