No, grace is not enough to satisfy
the price of blood you dribble on your palms
and though you holy folks always deny
your horrid acts — so buried under alms
and chastity — their stink will always rise.
I have to hope that God has mighty ears
to hear the lamentation, mournful cries,
and hands enough to wipe away the tears
so wrought by pious men — an honest flood!
Can holy water wash these ghouls away?
So children may stand queerly, though in mud
and wrap themselves in light, without delay,
that they may live unbroken, God’s divine
unaltered by an evil men designed.