Holy Help

the priest in his long
shiny gown
comes calling.
he's dour
as usual.
he brings me a box
of guilt.
sprinkles me with
holy water
and assigns me penance.
three hail marys, five
our fathers
and sixteen jumping jacks while
i hit myself with a whip.
repeat
and rinse, he says.
hell
is at the end of the road
you're on
if you don't change
your evil ways and repent.
i smile. I put
a twenty into his ever
present basket, and tell
him thank you
for coming over
and cheering me up.