Altar Boy

A monk with a hard on in a lavender robe
That scratches his thighs for the height that he strode
As he follows a path filled with harried desire
And mimics his footsteps and sets his prayers on fire
Glad to have chosen that which left no choice
To sing without loving in a solitary voice
To observe with passion each careful denial
The protrusions which give my life meaning for a while

Sometimes I see you eating berries and weeds
You're brushing your teeth with licorice seeds
Standing too close, holding your clothes