Circle of Three
by Francis Herbert

1

We sat in a circle of three
in a circle of tables
with circles of three
and talked about God
against our will.
We’d come for food
or the promise of free beer
or the hope of a speaker
who’d talk about God
as if He were meant for the young.
She made us speak
to each other
prove we had something to say.
The one to my left,
41 and shy,
didn’t want to talk.
To my right,
somewhat younger but ugly
in that lonely sort of way,
she talked about her father
the sickness,
God was there for that.
God helps.
Then she turned to me.
I was holding my beer
and stared ahead.

2

Middle-aged bright-eyed Italian priest
knew enough English to operate
good for him.
It didn’t stop him from trying
good for him.
He walked, flashed
his eyes, said
Aaaaaah!
Welcome!
Thank You For Coming!
He walked up to me
smiled
pointed at my beer
flashed.
1! 2! 3! 4!
No Drive!
He laughed.
It’s just the 1 so far, I said.
We laughed.
If only he’d known what else I’d been drinking.
But that was earlier.

3

Jesus is the thing that’s there
through every joy
despicable act
or random fart of creation.
I blame Him for everything
for fun
He does it for fun.
Like when I was driving my father out of the hospital
you’re not the only one with a sick father
you bitch
I was making a left turn at a clumsy three-way stop
and nearly ran into a car crossing my path.
As the other driver pulled in my sight
a nice old lady
she turned and said something I couldn’t hear
but could read in her lips.
I’m not much for swearing
but my father
out of the hospital yelled Fuck You
You Bitch!
And I thought,
[. . .]
compliment me
with silence
as everyone else said that Jesus is love
or Jesus killed my grandpa for his own good
It was so common
how will you get into heaven like that
why can’t Jesus be a car crash
or a crash that never happened
and the 41 asked us two others
after I spoke,
“So we all live with our parents?”
I complimented her with silence.
I should’ve said that
after the old lady swore at me
she drove down the street
and pulled into a different parking lot
of the same hospital,
completing the link of
me my father
and the woman who doesn’t know us.
Jesus still lives with his parents
he’s just like us
he’s worse.
I got a beer and thought of how common
and worse than common I was.
At least we’ll swarm heaven in a babble.

5

Walking home was a summer night
for delinquents.
I stumbled across streets and a car beeped at me
making me feel sorry for myself.
Minors harassing each other on park benches
wished they could have poisoned themselves
like I had.
I carefully made a way through a crosswalk
and a car making a left turn beeped at me
as I hustled across.
I wished I could meet someone who was pretty
in that lonely sort of way
but I don’t give myself the time.
I don’t want to give myself the time.
Bursting with resolution at the next intersection
I pissed off the driver of a car
which had to stop before speeding off
he didn’t beep
called me a fucking pinhead
if I heard him right.
It made me very happy and I yelled
the best thing I had heard all day
even if I was the only one who could have heard it
or might’ve wanted to.
I’m A Goddamn Pedestrian!
I Have The Right of Way!
I’m glad he kept on driving.