Matt O'Donnell


My best friend and I lobbed wooden bingo chips at the back of her habit. Uniformed children craving attention, bored with accent aigu and accent grave, hoping to evoke a Mon dieu! or our favorite, Ooh la, la!, we were unprepared for her outburst of tears and spittle. You kids can go to Hell! And her comeback, some time later, in charge of the milk cooler by the lunch window. We placed our dimes and nickels in her hand. Then, before we received a thing, she asked, How are my two favorite boys? and pulled us in against her.



“Serviam” first appeared in 32 Poems Magazine, Fall/Winter 2006, Vol. 4, No. 2.