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Divine Intervention

“I want to know” I cry
to god. “What it is you expect
and what you unexpect.”
Shifting from foot to foot
I’m a 20 year old
nervous kindergartener in the face
of the unknown. “Am I suppose to follow the
rules you laid down
or the instinct you, in your
divine wisdom, gave me? What kind of sick
sadistic prick would say honor my temple
and give that temple instinct in opposition of rules.”
Shifting soul to mind
angel to devil
god fearing to god damned.
“What kind of sick sadistic prick are you?”
coughing on the smoke of sin
exhausted by the race of righteousness
“i’m sick and tired” and I’m screaming
to the sky at the top of my lungs and the
bottom of my heart. the child is the father
of the man, but man is not
the father of god...
No longer looking for a sign
I turn and walk away from gods hill. I’m
now a speck far away from the hill upon
which an apple is eaten, a world is drowned,
cities are turned to salt and a civil war still rages
between sadists with wings.
Who needs god when you got TV?