or scenes from a Catholic childhood


Frying Ants

Summer meant
on burning streets
sizzling ants
and then a
Hail Mary
whispered beneath breath,
while heathen vied
with Sundays
backs of thighs
marked by hard pews
and the smell of incense
all pervading.

But sin is so delicious,
like a cold, sizzling citron
drink that fizzed
and sent bubbles up your nose,
and only small children chortle,
from toes to belly
and up through the windpipe
and like it or not
such things are infectious,

like

snail trails from grubby noses
on a dry cleaned blazer
with a latin motto

and socks with
homemade elastic garters
that never worked
and a beret, bright red,
a curse to ginger classmates,
oh and plaits
of uniform length.

Mass early
before learning,
then frying ants
for dinner



Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 667 times
Written on 2011-08-26 at 21:17

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Neelima
I love the rich imagery!
2011-09-16


countryfog
As a very young boy I lived across the street from a Catholic church and school. The kids seemed somehow "different" and I always wondered what they were like . . . now I know. This is a delight to read and I'm not likely to ever forget "snail trails from grubby noses."
2011-08-27



Oh, the delicious contradictions. I was a convert at around 17; now, like many I've lapsed, but I still remember the scent of incense and the hard pews (though the thigh-indenting pews are probably universal to all religions :)).

Your poems always tell a story and a good one at that.

Regards,
William
2011-08-27


NicholasG
You are in grand form! A pleasure to read!
xox Nick
2011-08-27


shells
This is a real joy to read, the attention to detail and your observations of a catholic upbringing are excellent and sprinkled with a little humour makes it full of warmth.
2011-08-27


jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Elle
I have read you for a lovely time but this is the finest.
Good luck and keep writing.
2011-08-26