FOR SAINT WILGEFORTIS
The first bad-ass bitch with a beard
Ignored her booty to become a saint:
She took no mind folk thought her weird
And traded beauty to emancipate.
A virgin queen with curls and stubble
Men loved her curves but grew deterred
By ticklish fuzzy follicle trouble
Whose closer shaves would best go unobserved.
She was a feminist with cheeks remembered
As prickly though she didn't give damn,
And happily with shades of growth encumbered
Her holy hirsute face dissed cute and glam.
Princess of the shadow and the cross
Remember me as I bewail your loss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem