I wore pants to church

I remember the days
when I had to wear a skirt to pray
those jumpers my dismay
but I wore them to school anyway.
I remember the days
confused by what I saw
not even four foot tall
not sold on what I was taught
one day I just woke up
saw it for what it was
and said I’d had enough.
I remember the day
I wore pants to pray
the nuns stopped me in my tracks
but I never once looked back
told them to call my parents
my mother on their side-the merits
of properly dressed females
but my father stood by my details
told him of my discomfort
that I refused injustice
that I would pray in pants
and he told them again my stance.
I remember the days
that I knelt down to pray
God on my shoulder always leading the way.
I remember the days-
Catholic memories
of standing up to nuns
and living comfortably.
I remember the days
only a little girl at play
when I changed the system
never needing permission
just God’s little vixen.

Millennial anarchy

Legalize anarchy-
create the chaos
through the streams
normalize this languishing
and scream that you are radical.

Radical a thing of dreams
when you drink legal anarchy
an oxymoron but we see
oxymoronic thought as
critical thinking.

Legalize anarchy
systemize the radical
because we all know what heroes need;
a nice safe place to live and sleep,
a place the government has let them keep.