Benediction (On Muns and Hex)
When we were young, we were admonished,
By priests at school: we would be punished
If we indulged in certain pleasures
That led to spillage of our treasures.
“A salmon mates – and having mated,
Starts to die, for this is fated.
To salmon, humans are related.
If you’ve had sex, you’ll be negated.”
So yogis sought to save their seed,
And so, to vital engines feed,
In hopes that this would give them strength,
And lives of more-than-usual length.
So priests and pundits warned, in schools,
That such indulgence was for fools –
That those, with carnal pleasures sated,
To exits, quick, were relegated.
But what of those, who weren’t sinners,
Who prayed before they started dinners –
Those nuns, whose entrances were gated,
Who chastely, for their Lord, had waited?
Would nuns, upon this planet, linger –
Who hadn’t even known the finger,
And only in their dreams had dated –
Till they, with Him, their Lord, had mated?
But since we know that nuns do die,
Could their chasteness be a lie?
Could it be, though some resisted,
From pleasures banned, they’ve not desisted?
But hark! As I am penning verses,
I hear the Host-in-Heaven’s curses.
These lines, on which I have persisted,
Have made me, on a memo, listed.
“Re.” it says, “the agitators
Who seek to know if nuns are maters,
With men or selves, the Lord insisted –
‘Target action!’ Team has missed it.”
But while I’m waiting for the lightning,
Which really isn’t all that frightening,
I’ve begun to question whether,
To truth, these teachings have a tether.
Could each, perhaps, live slightly longer –
And even wax a little stronger,
If she partook of sizzling spices,
Which sadly have been cast as vices?
So now, I’ve learned it’s all a fiction!
We all need more, not less, of friction,
Where it matters. A nun’s addiction
Is, in truth, her benediction.
2013 December 14th, Sat.