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Ms. Lewinski, Monica (God, such a sigh),
Thou art charged, yea, let me now read:
Thou art charged with giving the Pres—O My!
(I’ll pray for thee) how dost thou plead?
“Oh, Lord, it’s true,” Miss Monica cried,
“It’s true—oh, it’s true!—I confess,
That I had the whole of his manhood inside
My—ohhh!—but not ’neath my dress!
“See, he called, my heart, it beat like a drum,
He said, ‘Come to the Oval Office!’
So I came—and yet, Lord, I hadn’t come
—Er, you see, I was then still a novice.
“‘Ms. Lewinski,’ he said, ‘I’ve a nice job for you:
Serving under me, most honorary.
It’s a swell cushy job—and it’s personal, too—
As my under—where? here!—secretary.
“‘But, don’t worry, my sweet, you don’t have to know
How to type, dear—or even keep books;
Just keep your lips sealed (temporarily though)
When you come beneath Hill’s dirty looks!
“‘So, here is your desk,’ he said soft and sweet,
As he handed a pillow to me.
‘Why don’t you just place it—right here—at my feet,
And rest your sweet knees…Honey Bee!
“‘There’s a lot to learn—about fires, you know—
Yes, the fire of love, my sweet novice;
And the best way to put out a fire is to blow-w-w…
Did I show you the chain of my office?’
“And with that the First Trousers slid to the floor
—Holy Mary! I gasped with a squeal;
For there on his—oh, Lord, need I say more?—
Was the full-blooded President’s Seal!
“And the Eagle, oh, Lord, was in fullest fine feather
—But please, Father, don’t make me mention
That its posture erased every doubt as to whether
First Bird stood at ease—or attention!
“And the eagle’s intentions I couldn’t have missed;
He flew straight to my heart—with intent!
Right into its nest—ohhh!—and gave a new twist
To the title of Vice-President!
“But, Lord, it was only that one time—I swear!
Well, it might have been four or five more,
That he gave me the pillow, to save wear and tear,
And I knelt at his feet on the floor.
“But never, Lord, once, did I feel the caress,
Oh, never—not once!—did I feel
Neath my dress, at my dearest, most private address,
The stir of the President’s Seal!
“Oh, not once did we lie, one, abed the First Bed,
And my head never touched the First Pillow;
Not even when full-swelled the Eagle’s proud head
(Which he called, Lord, the First Pussy Willow).
“Well, there was one sweet time or two, I confess,
When we fell down and rolled on the floor;
And the bald eagle landed—Dear Lord!—neath my dress
Five or six times—or maybe some more!
“Lord, I know you think” (she trembled within
As she knelt, with a blush, on her pillow)
“That I’m bound—once again—to do cardinal sin
—But I count prayer a mere peccadillo.
“You have made us of flesh, and of flesh we are made;
So we are now until we decay.
Yet, Lord, I confess, I am daily afraid
Of your judgments upon us—each day.
“Thus each night hereaft, as I kneel by my bed
(Lord, trust me, I kneel not in sin)
Put my meek hands together, and bow my chaste head,
Then in earnest my prayers shall begin:
“‘Lord, I swore to give the Pres—er, you know;
What a girl does…down on her shins?
But I’m damned if I do; if I don’t—then I’ll blow
—My job!—for the smallest of sins.
“Oh, I’m damned if I do—more damned if I don’t
—And all for the smallest of sins.
But if you say I shouldn’t, Lord, trust me, I won’t,
Even though it’s the smallest of sins.
“I’ll give up my job—blow town if you say
The Word—and stay right off of my shins!
If you’ll only, Lord, trust me, come Judgment Day,
The First (blush) was the smallest of sins;
Lord, you made it the smallest of sins.’”
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