He spits at the idol feet of Jesus
and sleeps on the cathedral steps
waiting for God to come
and answer him Face-to-face
cos he aint got time for go-between mediators
he wants to hear from the Horse’s mouth
why only the Devil’s drink can burn his pain
in his darkest hours.
The priest told him
he must pray to Jesus for salvation.
He replied with a grubby middle finger,
‘I shit on your thou art thou!
I’d rather fly to the heavens
on Zeus’ winged stallion
to wrestle my answer from Yahweh,
than ride economy-class
on Mr. J’s damn ass!’
Published first by Blackmail Press; the first online to publish any of my work. Forever grateful. http://www.blackmailpress.com/RM37.html