"It's little known," the Padre drawls, "nor true
that angels' dancing's penned me in this Head.
No prancing cherubs skipped me to this loo.
I'm tethered by this pull-chain in this shed
to wrestle with Beelzebub. He led
me here. He knows my signature: to pound
on most temptations. Rougher lads go round
and fight when they're ashore. Less admirable
than me, the fleet agrees. Tonight I wound
up, ranked new beer: Commode Adorable."