Some women are whores,
While some seek not sex but salvation,
Methinks it's a waste,
When a woman stays chaste,
And requires a perverse motivation.
Yes, a waste of a fresh
Young girl, (mortified flesh),
Who will never make love to a man,
But there still is some fun
In this life for a nun,
And she takes it wherever she can.
She's pious and godly,
And dresses most oddly
In long white-rimmed black gown and sandals,
She carries a cross,
And does not give a toss
For her sacrifice while she's got candles.
She lives with her sisters,
All lesbian twisters
Who spend their days praying to Mary,
And though she shaves nightly,
Her chin is unsightly,
It's only her minge that's not hairy.
She greases with lard
Her crevice, rock hard:
"O God, let the joy of Love seize us!"
Her sister with numb
Fingers tickles her bum,
And she comes her lot thinking of Jesus.
O yes, it's a waste,
So take me in haste
To study the priestly profession,
Though I won't ever lay
A nun, I will one day
Sit and hear her perverted confession!
[The above was first published in Scatoligicus Eroticum, February 1993].
Back To Poetry Index