High Noon in Downtown Chicago
St. Peter’s in the Loop
Two minutes more, Father Cal,
and you will hear another
of my strange confessions.
Right now, I’m outside
watching the rain on my glasses
running in rills.
Once inside I’ll confess
the usual stuff
with a few variations,
none essential,
all accidental,
the same plot,
the same ploys,
the same frenetic tale
I have always to tell.
Next week, I promise,
it will be different.
Next week, I promise
I’ll fall on the kneeler
and whisper
through the grille,
“Father Cal, it is I.
You know the rest.”
Next week, I won’t make
another list in the diner
across from St. Peter’s.
Next week I’ll swig
on a milkshake instead.
Father Cal, you and I
will both profit.