another beetle to drown
in the baptismal fountain

me & you were drown 
like beetles in the
baptismal fountain 
& no incantation to 
our saints could teach
our feet to walk on water--
stand here waist deep with
me in swim-trunks & pink
baby skin--
deep fry me in consecrated
oil--
this is blessing
this is baby
this is barbecue
& original sin that still
tastes like applesauce-- 
we're learning cannibalism here--
oh & dress me altar girl--
tied up with a white cord--
quick-- let's fill our pockets 
with bugs--
i'm wondering again
what draws the stinkbugs 
& the beetles
to the altar-- 
was it their mothers?
did they get confirmed because 
that was just what beetles did--
took the name of another martyr
who drown themselves
in the fountain crying
ave ave ave maria--
lived in the cabinets of the sacristy
& sipped wine before it
turned into blood
only to learn they 
were one in the same--
no matter what
the wine was always
blood-- 
when i was an altar girl
i washed the priests hands
with a silver plate &
a cruet of holy water
& i watched from the altar
the stinkbug take bite
after bite of God-- bread
blessed into blood
into water poured back
into a fountain--
the priest paused to
look at the insect--
flicked it's small
body from the altar--
mandibles fat with flesh--
the same day when i got
the host i was startled 
& dropped it--
i could only think of
the gnashing of the mandibles--
all the bodies of the beetles
floating & piling up in the
fountain at the back of the church--
PICK IT UP
the Eucharistic minister said
PICK IT UP
only i thought he meant
the stink bug--
dead body stiff
on the steps to the altar--
drown me in the baptismal
fountain 
with the other beetles.