Sister Marie

"Ceba.....cebal.....what is it again?"

"Celibacy.....it's the oath of Catholicism."

Slight coughing choking ejaculations of choice words stick inside my pipe of smart remarks to get this girl whom I adore as my sister to place her weaving steaming index finger in front of my face but I decide to suck it up instead.

"Hhhmmmm......sounds interesting......."

"Oh it is....you will see soon. It is something that will bring you closer to this deity figure. Which one is it again?"

He looks at me as if I am the glossary of gods and demons.

"Uh......it's the Virgin."

I swim inside her Everglades haze.

"Is it like the Islands.......answer me Butta!"

"It's definitely an island."

We are disbelief, not because this is an actual convent, not because she has no idea what celibacy means or even how to say it; we are general disbelief.

"There is something here for me I am sure of it; I must stay to see what this could be."

Gemini smiles and I frown; then we trade for another go round.

"Whatever is here it is making me feel a slight whirl. Did you pick that up?"

"Yeah I think it's over in that field by that creek where the stone shed is at; we got to check it out while she's still a virgin to the Virgin."

Sister unpacks her garments of black and red days for black and white nights. Is this really happening? We are suddenly separating; the shock is spring snow flurry wrapping around hills of palm honey dew melon.

"Well at least the outfit is somewhat reasonable; I can agree with the style."

Twins hit the marble for scrambles of chattering chipmunk lyrical snaps while Mary Jane feet march a pattern outside our rolling vision.

"My goodness......the little nut gatherers are early this year."

"Yes.....they certainly are nut gatherers."

Containment is a difficult scientific principle than first mental squander yet we somehow manage tactfulness as we successfully crawl throughout the porcelain palace darkness clad.

"I know it's got to be over there........"

"Yes well we presume it is over there because that is about as far as we can get away from the statues of that woman who I swear can read my mind."

"Listen if she could read your mind she would of fell over into pieces."

"This is true......"

Two wanderers of questioned gods arrive at a rock stump swirling metallic electric hues reflecting rainbows across our fallen eyes. A definite inertia gusts across the back of my hind legs; I am a ball of buckles and asylum straps fumbling across dandelions into a soft yet firmly planted olive tree.

"Is it safe?!"

"Yes......."

Tip toe gallops of looped dead ends hurl towards my pitiful stance; burst of berry bellows balloons from my belly while eardrums sound.

"You will now believe my dear comrade."

"Hey......I think we got some new threads boy!"

"Shall we quick change and strip for the local bovines?"

Two weary priests at first sight we jumped inside the side mirror of an unusually intimidating truck startles us both into recognition. Chapel doors swing introduction for the two devotees of fashion and for some peculiar pricking peony the podium tantalizes us.

"Shitte......shitte.....shitte.......fock of all ages."

"What was that sister?"

Newly named Marie turns to the side boasting the sweetest smile since baby food commercials.

"Yes dear sister we know it is difficult to curb such impulse which is why we are here this afternoon to speak with all of you of temptation."

"And......of course..........one of these temptations would be......."

Chiming in as bells clanged once for villages to feast upon the curious wine of unleavened flesh.

"Celibacy!"

"Shitte.....fock........shitte!"

"Sister please now we are in the house of assembly and we must warn you there are mysterious senses in our midst."

She nods her wobbling head admitting a bit of crazy for a nun.

"Temptation of the flesh is a wall."

"We must come together to break down this wall."

"We must realize that our flesh is a trap if we do not remove the snare."

"The snare is similar to the barbwire of prison walls."

"The escape is of the mind."

Whimpers of Karite butter wilt from our chocolate muse's fairy of Billie's Holiday.

"We must free our thoughts as we free our flesh from attachment."

"Right on Butta you tell them the truth and don't you forget who got your back when it goes down since we in the land!"

Skipping to our pressed bottle of fermented purple juice extract we are pleasantly surprised an abundant amount for our congregation of fresh newspaper print ladies Rosie the Riveter gave up the arm wrestle.

"This is some good shitte."

While we argue poorly rehearsed phrases, a commotion of wilderness barrels through the horse shoe communion as an empty cannon fires the final boom of lovely laughter from women.

"I think we did the work of the.....which deity is this one again?"

"I forgot but what really matters is that......."

"What matters is that we survived is all I am really thinking right now."

"Yes and we are closer to whichever deity this one was that we forgot which might of mattered lest we had not survived."

Caffeinated cocoa complexion peaks my hysterical attention; our dear sister focuses the oddly misplaced crucifix outside the guest restroom.

"Okay you get her going off about the Queen's bustier and you know......."

"I don't know if you should do that. She seems serious about this whole thing."

"Please oh please just this last thing before we.......please??"

"Okay as long as you quit asking me about......"

"So do you think your sister would like me or what?"

Somehow I end up closer to King John than friendship; his throne sits with closed lips.

"What was she thinking anyways? Her muffled chest could of used a snuff can just to spit it out. I mean who wears a bustier with a pencil skirt and wedged heels on a god damn holiday anyways. If I was the damn Prince I would of told my momma to grab the closest cardigan off the mannequin......"

"Marie!"

"Oh focking hell it must of been the damn stalk of blue celery I ate because I could of focking sworn the god damn cross on the wall spoke to me. I knew that blue shitte was going to fock me up."

"Sister!"

Momentary silence stirs a flushing commode; I discover my clumsy new elbow bone.

"I think you better answer. He sounds serious. I mean look at the man he is on a cross pinned with our sins. If I was him I would of already smacked all of us but since he's stuck on the wood like a pecker obsessive compulsive disorder I would say this could be extremely vital to your stay here."

"Well tell me something good because I had to lock my French lace garter belt with spider webs underneath my cot which makes me a very unhappy tisket this evening. You better tell me some kind of message which makes my booty a bounty for the local pirates."

Inside the swirling sink I see a pair of jaws gaping sharks to enter without distraction.

"Sister I want to tell you the good news?"

"And what would that be.....do focking tell me some good focking news because I been waiting all this time for the god damn news to tell me something focking damn good!"

"You will find peace."

"Really........."

"Yes.......Our Lady Peace."

"Is she a boomer or a hottie?"

My buttocks flapjack a hot country griddle, toes curl from the uncontrollable urge to answer, I choose a serious nature.

"She is dignity and grace. She is inside of all of us and soon we will come to know her as our dear mother."

"Where is Butta I got to tell him about this one. Oh no he will probably tell me it was another one of those voices we hear on occasion but this time I really do believe that was a real larynx."