My Acolyte

My Acolyte

Aaron Belz

The problem is my acolyte 
can barely swing his thurible 
I think he’s taking Benadryl 

too much—it’s rather terrible
and has me storming sulkily
around the church, but heroin

might also leave him nauseous
and not exactly functional
so yes let’s say I’m hiring

a kid to fill this opening
a boy to collect offering
here at the Russian Orthodox

cathedral of East Avignon
someone to help me simulcast
on YouTube and by telephone

for congregants with hearing loss
and for the ones whose limblessness
keeps them less than ambulant

and those who’ve fallen comatose
who will not be awakening
at all I need an altarboy

to run down to the pharmacy
and get for me my Benzedrine
and pick me up my Clobazam

or I will fall to shudder-fits
due to the central nervousness
that led me to the pastorate

way back in 1970
when I with my new Polaroid
took pictures of the thoroughfare

that runs from here to Jonquerettes
cuts southward down to Bouches-du-Rhône
then doubles back to Avignon 

where I am at my typewriter
bemoaning lack of assistance
due to a woozy acolyte

I wonder what tomorrow holds
perhaps the morning bright will shine
and I my words will flipty-flop

in shadows of this monolith
that someone many centuries
ago built for the Trinity

that we may worship compoundness
both cyclical and circular
rest us among the sycamores 

that planted by Napoleon
now symbolize dear Avignon
they tower over Avignon

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Aaron Belz
God-Fearing Roustabout

Aaron holds an MFA in Creative Writing from NYU and a Ph.D. in American Literature from Saint Louis U. He has published four full-length collections of poetry, most recently Soft Launch (Persea, 2019). He is online at belz.net and on Twitter at @belzpoems

Photography by Alex Quezada