Number Two [poem] by Catherine Orlando

Our father,
We sat in blistered fake
leather plastic chairs
warped aluminium legs bending and
kinking until they reached the
scuffed linoleum floors
Who art in Heaven
We twisted and itched and
scratched at uncomfortable
needy, yearning, clothes, skin,
Hallowed be thy name,
We sniffed and snuffed and breathed
deep trying to see whose breath was
tainted most recently, who wasn’t
fulfilling all their promises.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
a voice droned on and on
and on and
On earth as it is in Heaven.
We’re reminded we’re powerless
we’re reminded we’re weak
we’re reminded we’re without control
Give us this day our daily bread,
we’re reminded of the worst of our–
And please forgive our trespasses,
We join our gnarled and scarred
veined and lined fingers and joints,
we’re reminded of the worst that’s been done to–
As we forgive those who trespass against us,
squeeze and shake and release
And lead us not into temptation,
the woman next to me’s got a tee shirt on
from a bar
But deliver us from evil.
it works if you work it.

Image of 1930s Switchboard Operator

Image by bradhoc

Catherine Orlando is a college student, raised in New York and based in Baltimore. She is currently exploring any and all creative outlets through which she might express girlhood.