For those who have never seen my Gen X Catholic poem ala Allen Ginsberg, here it is:
I saw the best Catholics of my generation destroyed by madness, starving
dragging themselves through the streets at dawn looking for beautiful Liturgy
Coolheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the
Who passed through universities without ever learning Aquinas, among the scholars of Kung,
who were expelled from the seminary for questioning heterodoxy,
who cowered in rooms with no crucifixes, burning their Missals in
wastebaskets and listening to the Feminist Theology through the wall,
who got busted in their dorms reading Wojtyla,
who purgatoried their torsos night after night
with endless tales of bitter old nuns,
who chained themselves to altar rails for the timeless reception of the Eucharist,
who sank all night in submarine light of renovated Churches, listening to the
crack of doom from the folk group,
a lost battalion of Thomistic conversationalists,
screaming whispering facts and memories and
anecdotes of lecher priests, pedophiles, perverts
whole intellects who vanished into nowhere leaving a trail of missed vocations,
who wandered around and around at midnight wondering where to go for Adoration, and went, leaving no broken hearts,
who studied Newman,Stein, St. John of the Cross
because the teachers would forbid it,
who loned it through the streets of Georgetown seeking visionary angels like Fessio
who lounged hungry and lonesome through USF seeking Chesterton or Augustine or
Waugh, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about Opus Dei
who disappeared into the Traditionalist groups,
who reappeared on the Florida Coast building Ave Maria
with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out Catholics United for the Faith leaflets,
who kneeled for communion and shrieked with delight for
committing no crime but their own desire for orthodoxy
who journeyed to Denver, who prayed With Chaput,
& waited in vain, for the New Evangelization
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other's salvation
who threw potato salad at Jesuit lecturers on Dogma and subsequently
presented themselves on the granite steps of Groeschel’s Friary with
shaven heads demanding true religious life.
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up
their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Heterodoxy! Filth! Ugliness! Bare Churches and stupid theology! Boys sobbing childhood molestation
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of orthodox seminarians!
Moloch the incomprehensible dissidents! Moloch the soulless Liturgies! Moloch whose church buildings are empty!
Moloch whose love is endless questioning and changing! Moloch whose soul is America and National Catholic Reporter!