Pretending on Sundays

On Sundays people appear
More Godly than usual.
They pray and sing and say Amen,
Nothing is casual.

Take any bus or train in town
Or browse your neighborhood,
On this very day, everyone appears spiritual;
Everyone doing good.

Now--consider my old landlady,
Cigarettes and booze all week.
She steps outside in her Sunday's best
All done up and looking meek.

Red-polished fingernails
Painted shakily beyond the tips,
Penciled-on eyebrows
And red puckered up lips.

"Hello!" I said, she
Sweetly smiled, asking:
"Do you like my hat?"
I observed the shiny golden sequins--

The protruding wig, and replied:
"Yes I do!" at that.
I bid her a good day in church,
She smiled and meekly turned away,

But seconds later I overheard her say:
"Will you guys hurry up in there? I
Want to get back to watch
The F&#!king game!"