The bird the Filipino stewards flip
onto the serving platter goes ker-THUMP.
The glistening breast, the garnish at the hip,
reminds the Padre of Ibiza rump.
He rises in a reverie. The "grump"
the Captain gives recalls him to his task:
to say the bloody blessing, go and ask
for Acquiescence in the carving task,
invoke the words that serve to usher in
another round of gluttony. His mask
in place, he dreams of beaches, sips a gin.