WD40 blues by John Grochalski

the head priest

of our church

rode around our suburb

in a big ol’ cadillac

my old man sprayed

WD40 on his spark plugs

to try and get our car to work

every sunday

we went to church

and put an envelope full of money

in the collection basket

every sunday

the head priest’s newly waxed cadillac

was parked in the church lot

for all the parishioners to see

we kept the WD40

in the backseat of the car

for easy access

the head priest

changed cadillacs

every twelve to sixteen months

silver one year

gold the next

he rode them around the suburb

with jesus as his co-pilot

honking and waving to anyone he recognized

we kept our car running for a decade

on WD40 and pure luck

if we broke down

no one pulled over to give us a hand

not even christ himself

the head priest’s homilies

were about modesty

kindness

generosity

loving the sick and the poor

and living a simple life

then he went about preparing

the host

pushing his big gold watch back on his wrist

if it happened to get in the way

while the collection basket

passed around the church

for all of the parishioners to fill

with bulky white envelopes

that smelled of WD40 or car grease

and coins that glittered off the church lights

as bright and shiny

as we hoped and prayed

the head priest’s next

brand-new cadillac

would glow

off the light

of a paper moon.

John Grochalski is the author of the poetry collections, The Noose Doesn’t Get Any Looser After You Punch Out (Six Gallery Press 2008), Glass City (Low Ghost Press, 2010), In The Year of Everything Dying (Camel Saloon, 2012), Starting with the Last Name Grochalski (Coleridge Street Books, 2014), and The Philosopher’s Ship (Alien Buddha Press, 2018). He is also the author of the novels, The Librarian (Six Gallery Press 2013), and Wine Clerk (Six Gallery Press 2016).  Grochalski currently lives in Brooklyn, New York, where the garbage can smell like roses if you wish on it hard enough.