Magdalena

Shacked up in shacktown where all day women yell

Shrill and shallow at each other and throw things about

When business is less than good. Trying to find

At least a man to keep their hair from hanging ribbonless.

To sleep alone spells ruin – you scruffy has-been you!

•

But Mag walking to the well to wash – Oh when

Will they put running water in this place? –

Dropped her fragile jar and broke it at her feet

Which bled with sharp falling shards:

Looked up and threw off all her clothes

Let down her hair and burned the tawdry ribbon

In a candle’s flame.

•

Naked she stood in the market:

Sold all she had – herself –

And bought a man so she

Might have a god to worship.