The Sex Life of Jesus

At the tender age of eleven
Jesus drew on a stone tablet
A lingam and a yoni--
Then felt a shameful tug
Creep up his little boney.
 
As he grew older, he was
Nearly adept as a physician
At healing the feet of beautiful women,
Bathing the rough skin where they had walked.
Though curious witnesses seeing his always dazed eyes
And the lump in his robe always a-rise
Began to talk and talk.
 
When a carpenter, he was
Skillful at building houses,
At levering, at measuring--
And much in demand to flare women's portals
Using only his tongue in a style
Happy recipients avowed
Surpassed all other mortals.
 
On the terrace of his humble home
Sipping mint tea, he'd watch
The water girls pass with vessels balanced
Atop their shapely domes.
And often he'd invite one to join him
As an excuse to stare at breast or limb.
 
One night out for a stroll
He was attracted to a harlot
With a lolling walleye,
For he was a bit of a kinky guy.
Close to it he did sigh
As her hand fondled his tool
With pleasure supreme
And all too quickly, aye! for an eye,
He burst his cream.
 
In Jerusalem once he took an
Arab girl up on a hill
And into her his seed he spilled.
And though she liked it as well as any lass
She asked him if he'd please turn her around
And do the same in her ass.
 
One hot morning, thirsty,  
Shepherding through Galilee
He made first acquaintance with a woman's pee.
And drinking from that fountain of Paradise
Made his spirits so alive
Its giving golden source
He never ceased to idolize.
 
Perfume of myrrh and olive branches green
He once gave to a stranded Babylonian queen.
She opened her robe and let him feel,
Then hurried out to her husband
Hammering at their broken chariot wheel.
 
According to some researchers
The unrecorded missing years
Have Jesus impregnating
Several Judean babes,
Have him drinking and carousing
In the land of Abe.
Years still cloaked in
"mystery, sin and depravity,"
When perhaps our Pan was  
Simply off on some sensual isle, piping joyfully,
Defying Time's note of gravity.
 
Women far and wide  
Young and old followed Jesus
As if he were their designated guide.
And often emptied coins into his hands
From onrush of grateful pride.
Though he never married any one
He could remember almost every thrill.
A connoisseur of so many women he lost count
And even thought he might one day give
A talk on the mons veneris,
Calling it "The Sermon on the Mount."
 
Alas! Around his thirtieth year
His libidinous life ends.
And a dark veil of hokum descends.
Religion and politics in Rome
Begin to occupy his once pagan home.
Visions of a punishing Father he calls God
Now crowd his dreams
Of Earth's green sod.
 
He bears his fate with a cross
And is nailed to it at our great cost,
Leaving us the business of sin and forgiveness
And a fake god we work like a puppet
To serve our righteousness
And to mete out others' comeuppance.
 
--Envoi--
If only Jesus had stayed a pagan,
Had kept his natural drives
Free of his forsaking,
This world might be less aching--
And Heaven on Earth
Ours for the taking!