As we readied ourselves for our Protestant church in
Our good, Anglo-Protestant way,
On a window we noticed a six-legged urchin
A-buzz on this beautiful day.
He wasn’t the large, queenly sort of their species
We meet as a matter of course
And swat till they’re severed in several piecies –
And don’t feel a twinge of remorse.
No, this was a small one – and lone when we spied him;
He’d obviously gone astray
And needed our Protestant fervor to guide him –
’Xactly how? Well...we didn’t just say.
But we brought out our hymnals and Bibles and preached
Of repentance – a right fevered pitch;
By the time we were through, we were sure he was reached –
But for heaven or hell...weren’t sure which.
Yes, with Protestant zeal we preached of repentance,
But our best altar call he ignored;
So we slammed closed the Good Book, pronouncing his sentence...
And sent him straight to his reward.
—Anon A. Wasp