[The ninth installment of the month-long poetry sequence that began on October 1st.]
"Paternal Instinct"
Father D'Angelo
Blcccch! That dirt clod got me right in the kisser.
Doubtless Jimmy'll claim he was just aiming for the Beast,
But having seen the adolescent devil at his worst, I know better.
He's had it in for me ever since that Saturday in the sacristy.
I was always sensitive to the boy's lack of a masculine role model,
Trying--to the extent of my ability--to act as a surrogate father.
And somehow from that the perverted little imp thought it proper
To tempt me with the offer of doffing his own clothes.
Naturally, I rebuffed the aspiring catamite.
I'm not some Roman Catholic cliche,
And the church has has enough of homosexual scandal.
I told him we'd just forget all about his sordid proposition,
But now I think it might be best if I had a talk with the boy's mother.
Maybe if I worry her enough she'll break down and cry,
Giving me the perfect pretext to console her,
To draw her in my arms and press her against my chest.
Ahhh, sweet Mary, the set of mammary glands on that woman.
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