Grandma Catalina's funeral

Grandma Catalina's Funeral: 

I was 5-years-old

When I went to my Grandma's funeral 

In the little town of Bernalillo, 

In the Land of Enchantment, 

New Mexico, 

USA.

I remember standing 

Next to my aunt Lourdes, 

At  Our Lady of Sorrows

Catholic church.

 

She held my hand

As I watched the priest 

Sprinkle holy water on 

My grandma's coffin, 

And then he sprinkled 

Holy water on

The congregation.

 

A single drop 

Landed 

On my tia Lourdes's 

Nose. 

That drop gave me a 

Glistening wink

While it just hung 

On the tip of her nose 

Without dripping off.

 

I watched

And waited 

For it to fall.

But it just continued

To hang and 

Wink.

  

I wondered 

Why

My tia Lourdes

Did not 

Wipe 

It 

Off. 

The Good Lord's Work

A kilt wearing Irishman
Gulped a swig of Guinness
While he sat next to me

In an Irish pub nearby.

"Would ye be knowing," he said,

" 'tis not healthy

For a man to wear pants."
He took another swig
Of his dark brown Guinness.

"And squish those precious jewels

That God gave him?"

I wanted to reply,
But I didn't know what to say.

He dismounted his barstool

Put his hands on his hips

And jutted his chin
To make his point.
"The good Lord, didn't make 'em

To swing

In a hanging basket

So ye could wrap 'em

In tight suffocating pants."

I threw my hands up.
"What am I supposed to do.
I can't run around naked."

He held his big belly

And laughed with a sneer.

"Would ye be knowing

Where to buy you a fine kilt

In this here town?
If ye do,
Buy one.
And don't insult the good Lord's work
By stuffing yer jewels

In ball squshing panties."

I wear my kilt from time to time,

And I don't wear panties

When wearing it.
I wouldn't want to insult

The good Lord's work.