Sainthood

Jennifer Lagier

The four days my baby sister lived,

I waited till we were alone,

furtively reached

through the bars of her crib,

found her tiny fingers,

jealously pinched them.

Ten years old,

I confessed my guilt.

My grandmother pushed me

onto my knees,

commanded I pray,

beg god’s forgiveness.

Later, I tore away fingernails,

sliced both feet

with a razor blade,

pushed my fists

through windowpanes,

offered cleansing atonement

of self-mutilation.

In adulthood,

every supervisor

admired my limitless drive.

I told them saints

who endured tortuous deaths

were my Catholic role models.

Jennifer Lagier has published nineteen books. Her work appears in a variety of anthologies ezines, and literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edits the Monterey Review, helps coordinate Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Recent publications: Rising Voices: Poems Toward a Social Justice Revolution, Syndic Literary Journal, Fog and Light: San Francisco Through the Poets Who Live There, Second Wind: Words & Art of Hope & Resilience. Her most recent books: Meditations on Seascapes and Cypress (Blue Light Press), COVID Dissonance (CyberWit), and Camille Chronicles (FutureCycle Press). Find more of her work at jlagier.net.