Immaculata boards the bus


virgin mother on a T-shirt
protect me, a young woman,
from harm in this cruel world

I have come here
with my baby mouth pouting
full of grace and shame
to be taken
where god wills
and only you can intervene

I wear your icon
like a rock star's wealthy face
as an ad for my deeper self
the sorrow of your loss inside
the velvet rose upon the cross
upon the pocket on my breast
oh, help me
with your gentle mercy
be my thorns
and intervene

I got my black jeans on
I got my hair pulled back
in a tight young ponytail
I got enough to make me soft
and a reason to be hard
and I could go
either way, now,
any way you choose
well, almost any way
I could be a gangster
or a mother
but with this face
and this soft, plush casing
I guess I'll never be
a nun

But you tell me now
what's it to be
will I be shot at
or will I be free

am I bopping into loss?

you will protect me, won't you,
if I wear you just right?

bold black
etched like a challenge and a shield
on flimsy white

by Sara, copyright 1999, all rights reserved