One continuous struggle
to maneuver around
this constant conniver:
a conniving woman,
my piety her target;
her inquiry: to
prove my unholiness,
the secularity
of my ministry: that
of a “mangy donkey!”
(True.) Contempt for bearded
masculinity too; she
embellishes the emotional,
embroiders the fake;
my human defects, foibles,
and frailties magnified
she cherishes and prizes,
critical of the means:
His Cross, His Gospel. So
forgive her Lord for she knows
not what she is doing.
Today I eat spoiled food:
active mortification
for those whom have no choice
and yet I still consume You,
hiding behind the accidents
of bread and wine, in the
same way anyone else
in the world can do whom,
piqued and pruned, still believe.
Gary Edward Geraci
“And all who want to live piously in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution.” 2 Timothy 3:12-13
Goodness no, absolutely not - I am not speaking of my beautiful wife here - she is a boon to Catholic femininity as God has ordained it! Let’s just agree that the “she” in this piece shall remain unnamed. In fact, the “she” is more like the metaphor for a progressive, radical, cultural current than the actual person that may have initially inspired this writing. And so I write this poem not to further divide but to exemplify how to thrive under the harsh realities made present in our radically polarized society.
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