i ain’t no preacher…

i ain't no preacher

now
i ain’t what
folks
would call
religious anymore
some things
always struck me
as
phony baloney
that
tv evangelist
laying on hands
screaming
healed
healed
then
some paid
participant
in the tv drama
suddenly
rising
from the wheelchair
then
exiting
stage right
a performance
worthy
of
the political arena
and although
when you
laid hands
on
me
there weren’t
no bones
healed
the power
of
your love
surely
healed
a troubled
soul

 

glad-hand man…

glad-hand man

comes well equipped
a clarabell clown smile
painted on a gq face
spontaneous loud laughter
though inappropriate 
is
a programmable feature
and can be transitioned
into a whiny
faux concerned tone
with a series of
empty platitudes expressed
once laughter fails
as
a manipulative
joints are
fully articulated
and coordinated with
contrived smiles
laughter can also be
initiated by pushing
societal buttons
equal rights
patriotism
or
anything labeled
contrary to internal
prejudgment apps
a-greeting app
includes two modes
bra detection embrace
with gentle back rub
or
macho handshake with smile
grip strength is equivalent to
burping a baby’s bottom
please note
several models
are available
in various colors
but rest assured
they have the same
internal components

 

 

zero day…

zero day

political hackers
bending laws
exploiting flaws
words twisted 
into new codes
that mold lies and fears
into for-profit-ventures
like televangelists’ sermons
funding carnal pleasures
with nonredeemable promises

 

 

gifting…

gifting

after being robbed
a fool was asked by a man
on the street for alms
his empty purse was given
turns out the man was the thief
purse sold for a fine profit

 

 

not that it’s my business…

tell me
mister christian
if
it were your
wife
daughter
or
child
groped
and
raped
by
the president
would
you
be
as forgiving
as
you’ve
been
so far
freely
supporting
the evil
that’s been
done
to others

 

while you were waiting…

i’ve noticed
that
you’ve
begun
to talk
to
shadows
and
wait
quietly
for
their reply
one
that never comes
but
still
you wait
like
some marble monument
depicting
an unknown saint
slain
in
the service
of
an unknown god
i
suspect
that
you
do not see
the
encroaching darkness
nor
understand
the perils
of
your compromising
you’re
too engrossed
in
your dreams
of
power
to
see
or
hear
death’s proclamation
i
claim
your
soul
for serving
the
god
apate

 

no expedient allegiance with faith…

knees sore from praying
thumbing for a new passage
for understanding
compromising with evil
but not one can be found

 

behavioral modification…

the names
of
their true
gods
adorn
their bumper stickers
embossed
with
their
mindless mantras
those
carefully contrived
scriptures
from
an ad agency
after being
thoroughly
researched
by
behavioral scientists
and
predicted
to be
on par
with
the gospel
convincing
even
saints
to vote
for
the devil

 

the book of dying 3:10…

not human joy dark deep joy
watching pain grow as greed kills
apostles of light now death’s angels
doing death’s bidding volunteers of darkness