Saint Jeanette

        How many times have martyrs shed their blood? She gazed down
        at the market in the streets. There was no trial, no one noticed her.
        Saint Jeanette hung from a telephone pole. Her arms tied to its rail.
        The knots burned as her head swirled with torments.
        "Is it because my parents are so poor?" her pleas were unanswered.

        "It is more easy to forgive the weak who have injured us
        than the powerful!" she shouted to the people of the market.
        Pressing her bare feet around the pole, she arched her back
        and gasped. A little boy looked up and picked his nose.
        His mother pulled him away.

        The Saint's legs began to shake. She looked at the boy and
        cried out, "Michael the Archangel shall rise up and strike down
        the AntiChrist!" Her bowls openned and deficated on the street
        below. What was her crime? She pondered.

        She had been lawful in all things and most innocent in obedience.
        "I am without shame and have lived a just life!" the Saint cried out.
        The virgin Paris Hilton passed her cross and gazed apon the Saint,
        "Who is this black Angle of the Earth that stains my doorway?"
        "I am a slave to @Verizon: tormented by its powerlines." 
        Jeanette replied. Her feet slipped as she struck the pole.

      "God knows I try to pay my bills on time. If I were to bring such
        punishment I would be crucified beside you." the virgin Paris
        looked on. Jeanette's nubian breasts heaved with every breath.
        The virgin Paris made a call on her cell phone.

        Within the hour a @Verizon cable truck had removed Jeanette
        from the pole, "I have paid your @Verizon bill. You are free."
        The Saint lay on the sidewalk her back against the pole,
        "You are the little hand of God." The boy came over to Jeanette
        and handed her his @Hershey bar. "You may call me
        Miss Jackson." the Saint smiled and ate.


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