sore throat
like strep
a single glass
of water takes wings
and flies out like night birds
spilling little chirps

in the little house
isolated from the others

in fevered half-sleep
the priest breathing
down my neck
and I think of
the american flag
caught in my bike spokes
when someone called the police
now the priest reaching reaching
for my crotch
he only wants to help

sheets wet
someone calling matins
oh, it’s father hugo
little father hugo
he’d never hurt a fly