Critique Oblique

Critic of the black and white it's your first night.
The Passion Play gets in the way - spoils your insight.
Tell me how the baby's made, how the lady's laid,
Why the old dogs howl with sadness.

(Spoken:)
The blue thing in the ball leaves naught but a bloody footprint on the memory
of last summer's trip to Europe.

Did you buy a passport from the queen?

(Spoken:)
And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulder
of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography
revision.

The examining body examined her body.