“The Montauk Catechism”
“Do you really believe all that stuff?” asked the girl.
The hotel’s bedding melded with her blue dress.
For she was a girl in the prime of her season,
And just damaged enough to excite us.
My friend stammered loudly with Irish meanderings.
So many things he failed to understand.
I saw the boy-man still frocked at the altar,
A candle snuffer in his long-fingered hands.
I gazed at her legs and her haughty expression.
Her lips with a distinct, brazen curl.
Imps ran howling through my still-pagan conscience
Oh! The things we could do with that girl.
“My friend is a nun, and she told me these things.
What you guys believe is absurd…but still…
There’s some something in it even I can see.”
Said the buxom girl from Murray Hill.
And for the next hour we heard it described
In a way only insiders knew.
And despite all her doubt, or perhaps as its fruit,
The beauty of it all still shone through.
© 2014 Bill LaBrie