Poetry
by Louie Crew

Ding, Dong

A
W. G. Bell,
in a tiresomely

sensational book, 

The Great Plague,

noted that the clapper

fell out of the bell at Westminster
near the turning point of two bubonic plagues. 
People received the second instance as a good

omen. 

I
have

real faith in

science, honey.

Let’s all swing

from that grand
old clapper till
it comes tumbling down

again.
 

*

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Mother Spirit

Negative, Jesus, five times now, but still
not sure. I’ll test again in six more months
since John has likely been exposed. He’ll spill
his fears to none, nor even hint he hunts
beyond our bed. I’m sure he’d never use
a condom—least of all with me, his wife.
He’s too afraid the two of us will lose
our golden reputation.  
Secret life?
Why can’t he see I guessed it anyway?
I want only him, not what people think;   
I’ve always known that part of him is gay.
So what? Should that alone make him shrink
from me, not share his need? 
Our need’s not sin!
From isolation save us, God. AMEN
 
Louie Crew, seventy, is the author of 1,803 published poems and essays. He’s an emeritus professor at Rutgers and the founder of Integrity (lgbt Episcopalians).