the thursday nun

It was not, by any means, a loss of faith;
Indeed, her devotion was a boundless, unfettered thing
Beyond proscription, beyond rote chant and catechism,
And what she found as a novitiate
Were shuttered gates and gossipy confessionals,
Close minded priests, pig-eyed and pinch-lipped
Sisters who thought life’s commerce
No more than mechanical prayer and spotless linens,
The whole enterprise smacking of the exclusion of Heaven’s bounty.
So she demurred when the time came to take her orders,
And she returned to the world of pavements and lesser pieties,
Free to seek God on park swings and barstools,
In pleasures of the pastoral and the profane,
Though her faith is no Dionysian walkabout,
As she is passionate to the cusp of maniacal
When it comes to the Book of James’ admonition upon works;
She is often found among the sisters she once tiptoed alongside
At food pantries and clothing drives
(She is scrupulous about ministering to only secular needs,
As the Bishop is not happily disposed towards those
Who choose not to take the veil,
And the specter of excommunication is a prospect
To awful to contemplate)
Afterwards clambering onto some vaguely roadworthy MTA bus
Back to her studio apartment in Green Island,
Where she often walks down to the Erie Canal lock nearby,
Praying for those who’ve travelled near and upon the water,
Convenience store clerks and ragged Irishmen fleeing famine,
Feral kittens and insufficiently mourned mules.

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6 thoughts on “the thursday nun

  1. by happenstance, am listening to Jeff Buckley’s rendering of Hallelujah. I take no solace in deities, but do find some respite in the works of mortals.

    a fine pen

    1. Much obliged–as an aside, while I am fond of the tune, and especially the late, lamented Buckley version, if I hear it on just one more Christmas album, I will not be responsible for my actions.

  2. This rocks like a Zeppelin song, a full press tribute to a female who lays out seven blankets on the floor to give an old traveler a good night’s rest….more dreams to carry their voyage further. Damn, I like this and I hardly ever say that about poetry because most of the time I’m like the majority of people – I don’t understand it.

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