P O E T # 1 : T E R R Y   T H O M A S
Poor Soul from Poway Convent

Reared on peer pressure cooking
she took her vows early--
wed a checkbook at ten,
grafted a cell phone to her ear,
put money and fear in AT&T
and believed that goodies
were free. Sprees were ordinary
as vespers--didn't care, at
first, that father had a thirst for
sacramental wine til the diocese
foreclosed. Pointed her doctored
nose north, went forth to the
city of angels and sin to get in
on the easy cash, and to save
some sinners the bother. Found
other sisters of her kind,
put her mind to meeting the masses,
took acting classes on the side,
and tried to hide her habit
in long sleeves. Couldn't please
everyone--crossed several saintly
gents off her list,
a bad batch of salt-free wafers.
She didn't feel the steel and asphalt
closing in like Scratch's minions.

H.A.K.T.U.P.! #13 01-2001

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