The young, wet-behind-the-ears, newly ordained

campus minister, with his master’s under his arm

so neatly tucked

sat with faculty in the lounge and a member of the

religion department proclaimed dismissively in front

of all in tone amok

that no one with less than a Ph.D. could ever minister

to him. Later that summer, that good professor who’s

last name was Tuck

was scheduled to preach at a church in town. No one

caught the typo until they started handing out the bulletins.

The “T” for Tuck

inadvertently, perhaps “Freudantly” became an “F,” and

the esteemed Dr. Tuck became just another

f….,

had his karmic comeuppance, fled from the pulpit,

ran to the bathroom, knelt before the throne and promptly

up-chucked.