You hang your life on a couple of hooks.
God may or may not have secured those hooks,
but you know at least you will or will not fall.
You hang your life on a couple of hooks.
God may or may not have secured those hooks,
but you know at least you will or will not fall.
A bell of the Holy Ghost!
But we call it the mind.
G is for God.
G doesn’t
sound at all like God,
but “God” doesn’t sound like God
either. God is the one
cupping her ear not caring.
Of God and Ikea
You steal your life
from your cheek and your chest.
Your god is your soul, fracked,
burning in the sky
God has put himself
there, too, where,
God knows,
we shouldn’t go
But are you in you?
Are you when you
fly wide in God?
Don’t strike the snake
I thought as I struck
at the root of my sin.
Fear not but pity
weighed my spade as I cut
earth with my thought.
For the serpent, too, a creature is –
rise thus he must –
and the first to fall waits longest of all.
Yes, by God he’ll rise. I say it is just.
For what better blow
to the little man’s pride
than to give what he hates
and wants all along?
Altar stripped this
God in retreat