Mary Magdelene

Mary staggers
into the party
and whispers
I fucked Jesus

Under her dress
her flesh is split
from glass and razors
she steals from
medicine cabinets of friends

Sighing,
she parts the crowd
going forth
towards the Chivas
Regal and another
night's suffering.

Jesus Rodriguez
leans against the wall,
arms folded, the way
his Tio taught him
fifteen years ago.

He has a feeling
that a baby grows
in his girl's belly,
and this feeling
is stronger than rice.
It is stronger than the Latin Kings.
It is stronger than the bleary-
eyed magnetism drawing his
tired, damaged mother back
home every time.

On the sofa
Sophie Perez leans
in and giggles in time
to the drunken patois
of the guy she'll let
nail her in his car
later tonight.

Mary watches from the
makeshift basement bar.
She is always
a supporting character,
always some sort of
white bird of peace,
always the one left
with the feelings

She whispers,
I fucked Jesus,
but I am in love with you.