A Priest on TV
His florid face and thin lips offend me
I don’t know why, maybe It adds weight
to my revulsion, a weak justification.
Have they really the ear of a god ?
He wears his false serenity well, tailored
in Saville Row, Jesus likes his guys looking
sharp ! But his collar is stained, with a
child like hypocrisy, obvious as gravy.
He knows !
It’s a question of faith he claims,
glossing over the suspension of disbelief
with a sickly sweet smile that by itself is
truth in drag.
Reason and truth kept in a bottom drawer
next to aged malt and porn, while manic
enthusiasm and the conviction of
professional liars are pinned to the temple wall
And yet they find peace and solace in
cold echoing vaults of Gothic stone,
happy, smiley people on the edge of madness.
Let them be but take the priest to task.
His self serving florid face offends me
That and his thin smile !
Vipers have flitting forked tongues,
his is hidden, lesson 1. at seminary.
I wonder if he gets a fee and who he gives
it to ? Not Jesus for sure. He has the key to heaven,
half day closing on Wednesday.
That voice !
His words !
I switch channels and there’s a different flavour of holy man,
same grubby hypocrisy, different party pack .
One day only ! Half price religion,
it will only cost you your integrity,
Roll up, Roll up.
I watch ‘Star Wars’
it doesn’t offend me.