Moot theatre, hypocrisy on display --
more pointless shenanigans, more
dismay.
.
II.
There's something about Amy and her eyes:
the light of immaculate conception
that plays blue flute, conjures up stained glass skies,
promises a heavenly reception,
soft Bach fugues -- Jesu, Joy of Man's Desires
and Gregorian chants up the yinyang --
eyes of Notre Dame, rose windows of fire
that possess the seeing and half derange.
But the derelict Catholic in me
also waxes naughty -- she seems so MILF:
I long to be that immaculate See,
some Lutheran bangin' her to the hilf.
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