Tuesday, November 17, 2009

The Tin Church
















My aunt Josie attended church
in a Quonset hut, a tin structure
where the semicircular roof formed the walls -
an inexpensive shelter for the faithful.

The inside looked like any other church
with the crucified Christ on an altar,
beeswax candles, statues of saints,
stations of the cross, and confessionals

but when it rained the rat, tat, tat,
like bullets in a war zone,
created such a noise
I wondered if God could hear her prayers.

There were only Latin masses
so it didn’t matter what the priest said
she couldn’t understand him anyway
“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.”

I’ve come to realize my aunt
lived in the bad part of town
where the pachucos ruled and her
only son the ultimate sacrifice.

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