The Wafer

This prompt came not from the same place as my recent writing prompts but from Chattinatti whose challenge was to write a poem about food. Hers went to a happy food place; mine went …in another direction…

It tastes like paper
Of a flimsy texture
Dissolving into the tongue
Without satisfying hunger
The entire Mass to a child
Is the length of Lent
And as void of satisfaction
You take in the Word
But yearn for the wine He sips between each step
Like punctuation in a run-on-sentence
When will it ennnnddd
You dream of Sunday breakfast
Saltfish, eggs, chop up
Cucumber sprinkled with salt
Maybe fried plantain
As a reward for all this patience
You’re aware that you’re “bad”
For all this mourning dreaming
Will have to remember to add it to
The tally of your sins for Confession
Catholic Guilt is a mighty thing
As
To a child
Is the epic Hunger
That is Sunday Morning Mass
Pre Breakfast

 

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