Black girls have so much in common with Mary

They drink from the fountains of eternal life

And pray along the stars of the ghetto

But their god is not of perfection

And his love only expands as much as their legs do

When I stopped at bissonnet

I saw a man on his knees for Mary

Praising her with his mouth

Making her thighs a shrine of lies

I saw Mary looking for god in the corner store

With no teeth in her mouth and riches to trade

For a white coked blessing

It’s funny how the names of unfortunate black girls

Can fill a chapter of a bible

Yet King James would rather lay with them

Than translate their tears

Mary’s father motive

Is not as holy as the one she prays

And the land of gold he promises her

Come in rusted pennies and dirty nickels

Mary did you know that your womb was also a grave

Na’ziyah Harris did you know that the abortion of a monster’s baby should not have let you

breathless as the plagues

Maleah Davis did you know that your father’s rage should not have been ignored like your 3

year olds cries and now all we have is a shrine of murals in Sunnyside

Sometimes I wonder what do black girls wait for anything at the bus top after they get dropped

up by a lust filled Joseph

Then I realize, they too are waiting on a miracle