The Monk

Religion for enjoyment, for a wing

To picnics, social life and pleasure gives

Good reasons for the pains, for hymns to sing

In chorus.  If your picnic God forgives

Those things that you feel guilt about, then, “Hell!” . . .

Get on with praising him.  Church socials give

The chance to cause men’s penises to swell

And women’s crotches to get wet.  So . . . live

A little.  Go on pilgrimage to see

Some scenery and finger bones of saints.

Why not?  Perhaps a serendipity

Of holiness will rise up lacking taints.

When all the fun and crowds are gone, a monk

    Will close the gold shrine door.  Indulge your junk.

~ Phillip Whidden