god

god

you bitch

you demon

you make them believe

you make me a product

you make my mother beg

you are dirt

scum from my cock

you are a bum’s last urine

and you still come back

god

I don’t refer to you

I don’t capitalize you

I visualize you

I imagine you

I can picture you

god

you are evil

you are a baby’s breath

lost from a beaten husband

you are a hanger for pros

and lust from nukees out west

you are a marcher and become a face

of a priest or rabbi

even a CEO

god you are my television

you are a cleaner

you are my servant

because I form you

I mold you

you are only my thoughts

which I do not believe

do not believe

god you are a whisper

you are my love’s gate

and cage

and cook

god you do not exist

I am without a chest

I hear the sounds

the revolutions

and repetitions

but all you can give me

is parting seas

books of words

clothing full of assholes

and emblems representing your existence

I say fuck you

as I eat at your heavenly body

your soul

your belief

your printed matter

your trees and nicely cropped bush

I say fuck you

as your servants beg of you

kneel to you

bow to you

I do NOT capitalize you

or socialize with you

I put my hands out

and milk you of your existence

and nurse you as you die

upon my shoulders

god!

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.01.24.17:51:00@10036

98.01.29.04:26:00@07430

[NOA&S]