Our Lady of Perpetual Vigor, of the Algae Choked Pond; Our
Lady of Trying Too Hard, of Blue Sparkle Eyeshadow, of Magenta
Lipstick; Our Lady the Two Dollar Whore, of Is This Okay or Not, Is
This Love Or–; Our Lady of Fat Orange Cats, of My Son Curled Around
His Dog and the Dead White Fist That is the Moon; Lady of the Moon-
Shaped Hole in the Drywall, the Fist-Shaped bruise; Our Lady
of the Public Bathroom, of Tampon Tucked into my Sleeve
of the River Gone Sour, the White Foam of Industry; Our Lady of Single
Motherhood, of Co-Sleeping, of Night Terrors; Our Lady
of Loneliness; Our Lady of Song Sparrows; Our Lady
of the Child Support Check that Never Comes, of Daycare Bills,
of Electric Bills, of the Gas Shut Off; Our Lady of You Must Carry
that Baby Even if It Kills You; Our Lady of Loneliness,
of Ransom, Our Lady of the Hens. Our Lady of the Turning Eyes.
Of the Rocks. Of Succor. Our Mother of Sorrows. Our Mother
of Thin Mornings, Our Lady of Groceries, School Drop-offs, Little
League Games, Our Mother of the Laundry Pile, of Papers Ungraded,
of School Photos. Our Mother of Family Court, of Shared Custody,
of Bad Mothers, Our Queen of Second Marriages, of Menopause,
of Vaginal Dryness; Queen of Cheap Wine, Queen of Apology, of Families,
of Martyrs; Handmaid of Patriarchs; Our Star of the Sea, Our Anemone
of the Northern Ocean; Woman of Abundant Apples,
of Is This Enough, Is This,
Enough. This
is Enough—