Confession, it has been said, is only spoken by those who feel they have sinned.
Everyone else keeps their own counsel,
or boasts amongst strangers.
All of which would have been lost on Virginia's husband,
Carmine, a Good catholic from Jersey,
who made a habit of out of town trips
I need your car, and some cash
he would say
so he could visit his cousin Donnie
in Atlanta (which was actually a dancer, named Dorrine)
I need your car, and some cash
he mentioned, over Thanksgiving dinner
so he could travel to Miami to visit his great Aunt Stella
(who were actually two stewardesses from Trenton)
Carmine told his friends that his wife was
too dumb to figure it out, or too scared to do anything
if she knew.
All of which might have been true
But news of the travel reached Virginia's brother, Daniel
who was neither stupid, nor timid
Soon afterwards some calls were made
To a friend in the trades (excavation)
To a friend in auto repair (remote controlled ignitions)
At the funeral Virginia sought comfort from her family,
including her brother, who like Carmine,
was unburdned by guilt.
Daniel sat next to her, stoic and tight lipped,
holding her hand during the entire Mass.
All the while pondering the loss of a perfectly good Mercedes.
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