Sister Mary Appassionata Lectures
The Criminology Class: The Voyeurs
Dancing to the heart’s cadence of crescendo, diminuendo, lovers glisten with sweat, whisper “I’m dying,” fumble at their clothes. Buttons slip through narrow holes, zippers roar along their tracks like downhill diesels, snaps pop open like April seed pods. The secret heard around the world? Loneliness being torn asunder. The only real art? Night after night, waking or dreaming, shaking with hot or cold, a dance of fingertips and lips, teeth and tongue, dazzling dexterities of love, each of us blessed with the vision to witness, only to believe.
Sister Mary Appassionata Lectures
The Pre Med Class: The Six Senses
Each and every soul’s vulnerable as a butterfly in Ohio snow, a virgin near a port of call. Sight we lose to something shameful, hearing drowns in a scream. Touch and smell succumb to death and distance. Taste we smother in too much of any good thing or bad. The sixth? Balance, toppled by a drop too much will, wind, wine, one too many pleasures of the first five.
Sister Mary Appassionata Lectures
The Eighth Grade Bible Study Class: Homage To Onan
Resurrection man, father of the race and genocide, puppeteer playing God, you’re an empty gesture, open hand a blessing, fist a curse. As powerful nearly as the one who waits with finger on button poised to end it all with the biggest bang. Impossible as the needle through the camel’s eye, love born dying at your feet. The sentence to fit such crime? As part of your passion, to endure whenever alone desire’s shivering frictions until you’re worn out, to bear an unbearable weight, symbol of humanity as you stumble down streets thronged with lovers fit for one another, those who didn’t fail, moving to death.
Sister Mary Appassionata Lectures
The Creative Writing Class: Naming Everything Again
. . . and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof. We’re designated to travel from a world where nothing needs a name to this, where all things cry out for it. Cleveland, Ohio. Ascension of Our Lord Church. Giovanni. John. Father. Eastern Daylight Savings Time. Undertaker. Extreme Unction. Heart. Beat. We’re made to describe the way from darkness, silence to here, to learn that, sure as night defines the day, to be means naming everything again.
Sister Mary Appassionata Lectures
The Clinical Psychology Class
On The Life And Death
Of Blessed Eustochium Of Padua
Most of the townsfolk who clumped each night around the convent wall like leukocytes around an infection and demanded that she be shut up for good, most thought her possessed of too little morning, too much night. Daughter of a nun who had no alms to give a handsome beggar and no qualms about giving herself instead, she was always known as mother’s little girl, confusing give and take, in and out, love and love. Her pious smiles adorned the curses each time some spirit slipped between her lips to waltz and polka her around the floor. She once was found alone on her pallet in her cell naked as Jesus in the manger, eyes shut tight but smiling the smile you don’t get from dreaming. The sisters, turning their faces to avoid the devotion and despair wedded in her eyes, tried to make her pure again with the fire of the scourge. How such holiness must have hurt isn’t recorded. After death the embalmers read with trembling fingers just below the left breast the scarred letters in a child’s hand, J E S U S. She’s patroness of those pulled apart by gravity of earth and sky, all who’re not themselves alone, emblem of the darknesses that frame each day.