Renaldo Goes to Church

“You ever fall asleep in church,” said Renaldo.”

“It depends on who’s doing the preaching,” said Frederick.

Renaldo lifted a wing and pecked at a bit of chewing gum that had no business being there.

“Not that kind of sleep. The kind that’s so deep you wake up thinking the world must be over itself because you feel so calm you figure the world has come to its senses and for the rest of your life there’s gonna be nothing but breadcrumbs at your feet morning, noon, and night. And not just the unflavored white kind, neither. There’d be rye, wheat, pumpernickel, and my personal favorite, the onion roll. Then you fly out the church ready to face a world of gentlefolk and WHAM! you get smacked in the kisser with a big icy snowball thrown by a kid whose ol’ man is rootin’ him on. Not only rootin’ him on, but he gets in on the action himself. And then there’s me limpin’ his way back to church hoping someone opens a door real quick so I could sneak back in before I get clobbered with another to the back of my head and have my eyeballs pop out.

My feathers were so ruffled after that I couldnt make my way up to the top of St. Andrew's statue. I like him cause he’s got the biggest shoulders and a head the size of Gibraltar. So I spend a few days convalescing in a quiet corner of the confessional. No one pays attention to you in there. They’re too busy feeling guilty about something. Sometimes they don’t even know what they’re feeling guilty about, but they figure it’s got to be something or they wouldn’t feel compelled to come in and be sitting there in a sweat about what might come out of their guilty mouths. Yowser! Talk about one’s ears turning purple!

"So glad I’m a pigeon and not a human kind of creation. We are who are and we ain’t nothing else. Free birds on an island full of guilt and shame.”

Renaldo pecked again at the piece of gum stuck under his wing.

“And I’d still like to know where this chewing gum came from. It’s driving me nuts. It’s not even my favorite flavor. Juicy Fruit. Not that’s a flavor.

Photo shot by me at St. Bart's church. Park Ave and 50th st. NYC.