Many of my classmates were hellions
And I yearned to join their lusty tribe
But we all of us I supposed suffered ravenous curiosity
As to the nature and origin of sin
Thus we questioned our teacher of religion
Himself of the laity and no expert
And were dismayed to find his vocabulary
Little ampler than our own
Does this act or that thought qualify as sin we inquired
That’s not the point he would insist
Disappointed more with his own incapacity
Than with our patent lack of imagination
Everyone among us I supposed was perfectly aware
Of malefactions commercial vehicular and interpersonal
But one sin lay veiled in silence behind our shame
As if each of us already knew its vileness before man and God
And each must suffer its delights and torments alone
Perhaps I was more cognizant than others
To see the inward act as more damning than the outward
For I knew myself more than damned
For wishing my polluted thoughts incarnated
In matter more substantial
Than a schoolboy’s simulacrum
Many years since I heard the wisdom
Though cowed by its fearful modality
That ought implies can
And who can prevent the acts
That condense in the mind from the mere body’s distillery
But other sins equally irresistible have gathered
In that Cartesian charnel house
The sheol of the mind
One ought not to be bored in this world
Of impossible suffering and impossible wealth
But who can sustain a posture of ravenous yearning