And She Too, In Arcadia

And She Too, In Arcadia

She loves God
so much that she will not curse,
sniffing at the vulgarity of her lessers.
In her daydreams,
even the vile and cackling villain
who holds the key to her gilded cage
declares, “Dang it to heck!”
Then Jesus flies in to smite them
and save His favorite little lamb.

She loves God
and knows He agrees when she mutters
“They’re just trash”
under her breath,

referring to:

Anyone with a tattoo.
Anyone getting more than her.
So, anyone except nuns.
Anyone baring skin or bearing
joie de vivre.

She likes that phrase, in theory.
Anything French, really.
Elevated. Exotic. Nearer,
her God, to she.

Sometimes, at night,
when the unclean have gotten off
to whatever dens of iniquity,
she has no one
willing to give her an amen,

so she sings to herself,
ever so quietly,
in French.

Holier-Than-Thou-4d8a073da77ca

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