Sister Mary joined the church
out of desperation,
trading habits of sex and drugs
for one of condemnation.
Six months in the convent
she seemed a firm believer,
but underneath the habit
she kept a clean-shaved beaver.
Sister Judith was her friend,
another young convert,
her blue eyes sparkled in the sun,
her breasts could bust a shirt.
With folded hands they’d seek out
his holiness to please.
The girls were no strangers
to life spent on their knees.
Then one night after supper
they absconded for dessert,
slipped off their brand new habits
and did a little more than flirt.
When the cardinal found them,
they formed a human pretzel.
He made a sign and crossed the room
to share his holy vessel.
Now you may think you’ll go to hell,
enjoying lines like these,
but you get what you tend to give
when life’s spent on your knees.