Older Than God God might be the 80-year-old with the dyed red pageboy going pew to pew after Mass picking up crumpled bulletins donation envelopes scribbled on by kids who ran out of Cheerios and whose parents were praying Mass would end before the baby wailed oh God, she’s screaming make her stop Father is looking saying hush does no good at all what the hell is she crying about forgive me for cursing but I see the struggle in the Father’s eyes as he fights between love for all and frustration okay we’ll go out Pageboy God remembers those days but now everybody’s gone and the old woman cleans here’s a pair of sunglasses put it in lost and found I once was lost but now am found in the box in the vestibule the choir leaves lozenge wrappers in the loft like fallen leaves it hurts to bend to pick them up they should clean their own mess she always taught her children that but did they listen one drinks too much another died the third lives in her house with her wife oh yes her wife but it’s all love fine with God okay the church is clean enough blow out the candles quaff the lights breakfast oh look below the crucifix that homeless man is sleeping God wants her eggs and bacon she nudges him arise he does.
Sue Fagalde Lick has published two chapbooks, Gravel Road Ahead and The Widow at the Piano: Poems by a Distracted Catholic. Her poems have appeared in many journals, as well as the anthologies From Pandemic to Protest and Opening the Gate. She and her Zoom poetry dog Annie live on the Oregon coast, where she is a Catholic music minister.
Amethyst Review 