For those who instantly knew
what was clear to everyone but me,
head waggers and finger shakers
dropped from heaven with the right genes,
a youngster’s blood pressure,
perfectly formed turds,
for them and those like them
born with the gift
to lecture and counsel:
the seventh grade nun shocked
I would cup the breast of my beloved
in her study hall;
the boy scout leader
predicting my criminal career
for peeing on the sacred rock;
the priest in the confessional
refusing absolution, convinced
I would do it again and again;
the high school coach
who knew more than Patton
about winning;
the professor in sandals and tweed
giving A’s on agreement
with his theories of the universe;
the new West Point graduate
lecturing grimy recruits
about balls;
the oversized business squire,
flush with grandpa’s stash,
quick to rant and rave about work ethic;
the woman dead sure
my anger at her was really
hatred for my mother
Dante, for these and all those of absolute certainty,
please find in your ironic soul
a special circle in hell
Dante Aligheri is the author of “The Divine Comedy,” which includes, “The Inferno,” commonly referred to as “Dante’s Inferno.”