Chiefest of Sinners
The rector wears a microphone
And shirt laid open at the throat;
Heís justified by faith alone,
And knows himself to be a goat.
Deserving only Godís contempt
Expressed in everlasting hurt,
He knows no effort can exempt
The soul of man from its desert.
And he, he is the worst of all,
With sins outnumbering the stars:
His anger engineered the Fall,
He coveted his neighbourís cars.
Forget your Hitler and your Mao,
True evilís at the rectory:
It studies Paul with knitted brow,
Dunking Digestives in its tea.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Scott Woodland would be pleased to hear them.