Once a girl came knocking

Once a girl came knocking wanting

a priest but got me:

Would there be, were I to,


hell for my plate?


Who are you, why would you

ask me this thing?


I’m forlorn, twice gone, thrice ripped and stillborn –

and I would go.


Go not, promise please,

to this place that’s not there.


But go, she went, brief girl to the fair.