Assault On Fr Mouthpiece Poem by John Sensele

Greg tapped a tall lanky priest on the shoulder
As his nose sniffed his body odour.
'I presume you're Fr Mouthpiece.
Today, we've come to sample your peace.'

Fr Mouthpiece continued to read his breviary
As if there wasn't any aviary
In the vicinity of St John the Baptist College
Or evidence of sacrilege.

‘I'm talking to you, old man.
Of your histrionics, I'm not a fan.
Lend me your ear
Or you'll soon feast on fear.'

The priest made a sign of the cross
Cos he wasn't at a loss.
'What can I do for you, my son?
What's your plan? '

Exasperation lighted up Greg's red eyes
Which smote like bushfires.
'Cut out the bullshit!
Do you think I'm a misfit? '

Fr Mouthpiece shook his head in disapproval
‘My son, I use a missal
To say mass.
I don't spread pus.'


‘Why were you slandering me?
Is that the command from your Holy See?
Greg tinkered with his machine gun
‘I'm going to have me some fun.'

'Son, don't use profane language.
That's sacrilege
To desecrate holy ground
With machineguns around.'

Greg grabbed the breviary and stepped on it with his muddy boots
And glanced at his coots.
‘Sinner, don't give me that poppycock
Or my gun, I'm going to cock.'


Dugo slapped Fr Mouthpiece
As if to give him a Judas' kiss.
'You're very stupid, old man
Despite your tan? '


Fr Mouthpiece turned the other cheek
For militiamen to prick.
'Slap this cheek as well
So you have a juicy story to tell.'

Dugo sliced off Fr Mouthpiece's right ear
To make his message clear.
‘Shut up or else I'll kill you with my bare hands.
Right now, hand over your boys bands.'