I think of all these people, who will land in the emergency room
That night,
I think of all those who think of suicide as we open
A door,
I think of very old dogs walking around knowing
that they will die,
I think of the poets who are alone and doubt their poetry,
I think of people who have friends only on a screen
of television,
I think of all those who depend on health care,
To the old men lying on their beds in the Saint Thomas residence,
I think of all those who will learn a death in the day,
To the artists who want to flee their country,
To the orphans who seek parents who no longer exist,
I think of all the lovers abandoned, who live only with a ghost,
To the young people who seek violence so as not to doubt,
I understand their despair, and say to them:
“ Feel free to share your misfortune”
The Baltimore Catechism,
mornings at eight
Sister Marcella,
don’t ever be late
Its message didactic,
the devil to run
Each question, each answer,
with God zero-sum
Who and what made me,
and why every day
Resistance was futile,
dissent not displayed
An altar boy’s memories,
his sacristy torn
Still missing the process
—where freedom was born
(Saint Thomas of Villanova Chapel: December, 2021)
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.