THE HIDDEN NUNS OF ST JEROME'S

"Ascend, kids, yeah, but not too soon!

This vale of tears needs you to live!"

I laugh, and walk on past the school.

Like it or not, there is this rule

That the sister oppressing you always breaks.

Find it kids, and you take the cake!

[NOTE: My personal, individual relationship with the mother church has been one of aggression and hostility, started by them. I have never been Catholic, and couldn't be in good conscience. This poem is inspired by the ghosts of mixed race orphans killed by clergy and the nuns in Canada and the American Midwest; to the people of India who to this day struggle with the deadly legacy of Mother Theresa long dead; and to the children of Nostrand Avenue in East Flatbush, Brooklyn, New York - long may the latter be a pain in the ass...]