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.

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Congratulations, Katy.

Gilded goddess,
babbling whore,
don’t even know what you’re meant for.
A golden calf, an utter hack-
the killing fields won’t hold you back!
Once profaned a love of Lord
took the temple
make it yours
forget the tail of youth unfurled
the anger of Jesus
at this sick world.
Katy Perry the second rate calf
hanging on to fame,
no real gift of gab
lost in a hell that shows through those eyes-
pools of sacrilege, dirty, knowing lies.
Won out the temple?
Oh aren’t you proud
took it from holy women
but you are allowed
the morning star has fallen
to the whore of Babylon
Katy is chained to the rhythm
turning up the mob.