In 3rd, 4th, 5th grade
I’d rack my brain
for The Big Lie

the one that would entice Fr. Glenn
into assigning me the penance 
of kneeling at the commuion

rail to pray an entire rosary
– a great status symbol for the boys.
My only successful fabrication

was when I confessed to hiding 
under the kitchen table to look
up the dresses of my older sister

and her friends baking cookies
for Girl Scouts (it was a lie
with a half life, for I was caught, 

drug out and locked in the closet 
by my sister before catching
sight of any cotton panties).

Confessions were on Friday
(so our souls would be pure
for communion on Sunday)

and on that day of my redemption, 
after enduring the flaggelation
of Fr. Glenn’s breath and the scorn

of public repentance, I returned 
to my pew to witness the snikers
of the boys confirming my ascension 

into our loyal club of sinners