Sunday Mass

Sunday Mass, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

You could have been sitting next to me
It still would feel like the next galaxy
I heard the distant murmuring of the Father
Spilling the mutterings of dead language

Raising his chalice, and some round thing
But I did not care, not one bit
That wasn’t why I was there,
It was you, I pined for, nothing more

Your jet black hair, Annette Funicello
I wanted to be your fellow, but I was afraid
Deeply afraid to ask, fear of the tone of two letters
I could only pine, in secret, in longing

The pews could be as numerous
As the largest pro sports stadium
And I would still scout for you,
Sometimes a mere dot, up in front
When there was standing room only

And that Father, monotone, boring
Annoying, keeping me away from you
We’d all stand, kneel, recite the lord’s prayer
I’d do anything to be with you

Sometimes I would get lucky
And show up early, and sit behind you
That was the best I could do, then the Father said
“Let us offer each other a sign of peace”

You had no choice, and you never knew
You shook my hand, and I wanted you
I was nervous, and quivered and shook inside
Just the proximity was enough to scare me

Week after week, month after month
Year after year, pining in silence and fear
Finally, I had had enough of it, I had to try
So I employed my strategy of proximity

And there I was, sitting behind you, again
But this time would be different, I just knew it
And wouldn’t you know it, it was, not what I expected
I leaned over and asked you to go out with me

Finally for that brief second, I was relieved
I did it, I really did it, I was proud of myself
Did I mention, only for a second? Yea,
Only a second, she turned and cringed

And gave me that look of “What the”
And I picked a great venue, didn’t I?
Didn’t ask before, or after
But right in the middle

Smooth player I am. So much so
Walking through the parking lot
To cross the street, to my street
Her brother came up behind me

While he didn’t hit me, you can imagine
The choice words he had for me
I went home dejected, cried for hours
I had wasted all that time on her

Hormones suck.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: