The Virgin Mary’s face peed into the snowbank
under the lifted hind leg of the labradoodle
who lives three doors down was radiant (though crusty).
I thought of Serrano's Piss-Christ, which
I wanted to hate but couldn't because
it was beautiful. My neighbor who talks to herself
as she digs her Tercel out of the snowplow-banked snow
stomped Mary just as NewsTeam 4 was setting up
their camera--a desecration to prevent desecration.
Since they'd come that far in the cold, the cameraman
shot the new miracle of Trent Lott's pompadour,
created of snow and pee and a righteous boot heel.
I watched the news that night but the story never aired.
Instead, the broadcast closed with a human interest piece:
a young Seminarian who lost his nose & faith
in a botched hang glider landing in La Jolla. He now
professes that accidents are the natural effluence
of a rational cosmos perceived as chaos
via the narrow lens
of individual experience.
So help me God.
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