A Silent Hallelujah

On the morning of my First Communion,
I stood in a doorway fingering white tulle.
I hear my mother’s voice:
You never fuck me anymore.
My father, fixing his tie, caught my eye
like a foul ball as he left their bedroom.

Months later while he was on a boy’s trip
to Ireland, my mother found a bin filled
with my father’s porn—magazines plastered
with blonde women cupping their alien breasts,
their eyes x’d out, big, black words shouting
HOT—WET—PUSSY— Continue reading