In the underground Club Rhododendron
partaking in forbidden lust,
leather-clad masters attendin’
slaves who are tied, bound and trussed.
I absorb undivided attention
my fingers by pilliwinks restrained,
although I dare not to mention
that recently I have been ordained.
Candlewax sears my skin’s epidermis
while strapped to mahogany board,
addicted to this private service
Oh, forgive me please my dear Lord.
“Don’t be so tame
inflict intense pain.
A whip and a bash?
Yes please, Madam Lash!
I’ll stretch on the rack
enjoy welts on my back.
In here we have won
when I finally come.”
Lawyers and clerks, a downcast mortician
subject their bodies to fate,
and a very well-known politician
now walks with a wobbly gait.
My hour has almost expired
in the dungeon of demonic feast,
and in moments I will be admired
when I resume my life as a priest.