padre parboils his collar

The Padre's joined Toulon for fleet manoeuvres
but, slowed by iced pastis, he's left behind
his collar in a parlour where some movers
were shaking ample booties.  When his mind
has forced his body back onto the wynd
he'd chosen as a lad, he shakes his head
in wonder at the life he could have led.
He notes his neck is nude.  Les Saintes Maries
de la Mer, where he'll do penance, looms ahead.
He hopes they'll overlook his gaucherie.