On Your Knees

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.