Transubstantiation? Do the damn fools realize they admit being cannibals?
Transmagiciation, or my imagination, makes Jesus meat.
The Priest in alabaster robes, shakes about the smoke,
disinviting Lucifer, from sitting down to eat.
My mind charged to confess cartoon icon invoke,
“Carve off a leg;” “Give me the thigh:” My little cherub squeals,
snagging skimpy fishfood--the holiest of meals.
“Now fill the cup with blood!” the cannibals all cry--
he suffered on the cross; so, we shan’t have to die.
Impaired god-fearing fiends design to thus arise,
and sit beside the King, anon, …
with eternal glassy eyes.