Donal Mahoney- A Poem

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.