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I WANT TO BE BURIED UNDER A CATHEDRAL DOWNTOWN

by Aldrin Badiola

—the one I had gone to while I was a small child. Where Father
once told me that I could reach up for the stars shining outside
of the stained glass of stories I never understood. Now, only here,
I do. My God says I'm like his son—            graceless, & only
a heathen. I remember his love, yet,           he cannot tell me
anything that I can believe                             tonight. I sit
inside of this confessional,                            & I am dead:
so that it'll be just enough                            for Father
to love me, to believe, to hope, that          he could save me.
Father, love me; Father, tell me that          you want to save me.
& tonight, as I am asleep here, I can          find myself lying
underneath the shining of king gold            & temptation. Glass
panes shatter, & I will too. I'd like to be here, buried underneath
a cathedral downtown, so that Father can tell me that he loves me
as he sees me for the last time at my funeral. This church is my urn.

Because formatting for this is unreliable on the web, the poem is also made available as an image:

1 thought on “I WANT TO BE BURIED UNDER A CATHEDRAL DOWNTOWN”

  1. This evokes the senses of both comfort and disappointment that the Catholic religion used to inspire in me. Beautiful.

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