Friday, March 26, 2010

Anglican Poetry Contest - Third Place Winner

The Third Place winner of Anglican Beach Party's 2009 Anglican Poetry Contest is Louie Crew. Two of his poems appear below.


Months ahead of time Mother begged you, “God,

warn me at least two weeks before I die

so I can eat whatever I want.” And by

the end, she ate like crazy. Did you nod?

I want my manna freeze-dried. I would store

it for a thousand instant crises. Why

won’t you stock it that way? Why not bend, try

something new? No one thunders anymore.

This pew’s too tight a fit. I squat, can’t kneel

straight, lest I bulge into the hymnal rack.

Expensive incense. Beeswax. A red stole.

The pipes sound far away. I float. I feel

your body in my throat. The wine bites back.

Blessed are the, blessed are the … the cold.

-- Louie Crew

To Canterbury in March

We beat Chaucerian pilgrims by two months,

traveling past sheep in snow, yet crisped in Jags

and Fords. Forsythian flashes, like bright flags

along the road, performed some yellow stunts

through our steamed glass. There, we had a hot lunch,

then stood beneath the weathered, nuded crags

where once had stood stone saints in glory. Nags

ushered dull husbands inside, where one bunch

of U.S.C.s, rapt by a Cockney guide,

saw Becket murdered fresh beneath the Queen

of Spades and pondered skimpy thighs and hide

medieval under a marble maxi. Lean

and watching, a tired English matron said,

“Well, one cathedral’s like another, dead.”

-- Louie Crew