NaPoWriMo 2010
She’s a homophobic warlord with a miniature bible carefully tucked in her bra
It started before she could read
at Sunday mass
she’d stare at the faces of immovable angels—
La Madonna and byzantine saints
in cut-glass windows—imagining herself
speaking to the masses.
When her boobs started growing
the junior high jock,
a prodigy bible-belt-preacher,
invited her to Watchtower
study classes. They graduated from high school,
got married, and filled-out
their NRA applications
on the very same day.
Everything was stasis,
the end of the end, until she walks-in
on her husband and the church's accountant,
the end of the end, until she walks-in
on her husband and the church's accountant,
a six foot love gift from the Castro district.
Two hundred nineteen years after La Bastille
she remarried,
joined a New Age theosophy movement
learned to suck her thumbs and self flagellate
while screaming slogans
about the constitutional rights of breeders
at a famous prime-time puppeteer
program in Puerto Rico.
© Sergio A. Ortiz, May 11, 2010
Comments
Post a Comment