POSTULANT
The morning of her vows to Christ
Sister Patricia cracks a
fertilized egg.
The chick's eyes are sealed tight,
head huge on
its wizened body,
bright blood filming the yolk.
Later, scissors, then a razor,
are weilded over her scalp,
leaving
it coarse as a man's chin.
Her nape prickles in a drought.
Palms
pressed, she kneels
and raises her eyes to the crucifix.
Today she'll be His bride,
shaved
clean, a vessel for his will,
leached of desire. Metal
floods her
saliva; she imagines
the chick's eyelids split open,
wings itching free, heaving itself
from
the smashed shell,
its naked skull
bearing the dent of her spoon.
The Poetry Business receives financial assistance from Arts Council England.
