Father Brown
The family priest, clerical collar
worn always, married my mom and dad and all dad’s 8
siblings,
baptized 26 of my cousins and
I always took pride in the fact that you did mine
over the cliffs of Ireland
You must have said a thousand services for us.
when my sister first showed signs of being a heathen
announcing proudly she wouldn’t attend
granny slapped her across the face
while you stood silent
with that smiling
submission
The Morning After
forgive me father
for I am sin
last night I was a
werewolf howlin’
moonshine in the wind
I am sin when the sun
sets west
I reach not for what’s
right but
whatever’s left. that
western loneliness
manifest; fate in my
chest
it’s emptiness
it’s necessity
I need and I need and
I’m necessity
I’m greed and it’s
fate filling up
my chest cavity
father,
last night I was the
bathtub sin
pissing moonshine in
the wind
see, I was born on a
leash
set free by the night
to fight fuck and flee
anywhere, everywhere
you see father, it’s manifest
destiny
forgive me
Weekly Washing
They told me to pray
for you
one day I’ll learn forgiveness
and we can start
askew
on my knees, my hardwood floor
our pew
I bite my lips just like I did
with you
Dylan Weir is a
Chicago poet, writer and perpetual student. He works for Young Chicago Authors,
was chosen as a semifinalist for the 2014 Gwendolyn Brooks Open Mic Award and
is currently getting his M.A. in English at DePaul University.
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