I wish that nuns would go commando. God
can sort it out. They're holy, yeah, but wrapped
in habit, wimple--nun stuff--ain't facade
enough? Their temple-bodies should be apt
carafes for Jesus, minus magic panties.
A papal bull on underwear should do
it. Vatican fanatic/vigilantes
perhaps'll hate it, but the Word buzzed through
a pope or two is doable. So saint
some skin, beatify some skinny jeans,
anoint a CK billboard with some paint
the shade of holy denim. Latin means
you'll never mea culpa, and the brides
of Christ'll love it 'til the thrill subsides.
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