On Christmas Day nineteen fifty-nine
Anno Domini Nostri Jesu
Monsignor's red face cursed the dimes
he found in his massive basket.
To get the parish back in the black
he staged an amateur minstrel show
one good Friday night before Lent
after the Knights of Columbus,
plumed in their white feathered hats,
swore to God the Pledge of Allegiance.
Yea, though they walked onto the stage,
the end men began to dance for cake,
which prompted the Monsignor to say
he didn't think Jolson was Jewish
the way that he knelt when he sang,
and he liked O'Reilly's "Mammy"
God help him, more than he did
"Ave Maria" at mass.
It was all rather démodé,
rubbing burnt cork into the skin,
and do I even need to say
we longer feather our hats?
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