(Poem written by Jon Vreeland and first published in print by Sun and Sandstone of Rocky Mountain College in Missouri. Artwork is by Alycia Vreeland)
Priest on Meth
I flipped on the T.V. There was not much on, just the news and a green car wrapped around a telephone pole.
The car completely totaled The driver a 75 year old Priest on Meth, with an empty fifth of vodka rolling around the floor of his Holy car. They didn’t say if he was injured, just booked in the county jail awaiting trial. I changed the channel.
There he was again, his wrinkled mug shot staring at the world through bloodshot eyes,
begging us to forget this happened.
Forget his name
Forget he was a priest, his religion.
The accident happened on Sunday morning, on his way to work
to give his sermon.
Just the white collar.
He was bailed out by a member of the congregation, (Nobody said who) The next day I was driving to work and I turned on the radio in the car and they were talking about the Priest on Meth who crashed his green car into a telephone pole
(People love it when someone from church gets into trouble, it gives us an excuse to sleep in on Sunday mornings).