At Your Service

God may have given me the talent to write
But Satan provided the source material
You ‘gotta serve somebody’, sang Dylan
Lennon bit back, ‘serve yourself’
Praise Jesus!
If I say it, will I mean it
‘Cause your words seem pretty hollow
to me
Your actions on the other hand
(behind your back)
tell a different story
of unsavory truffles
placed haphazardly among Angel Food Cake
in a closed meeting outside of a church

Here we are all the same
Children of God
Out there we are just another bloke on the bus
along for the ride
It isn’t until we open our mouths
to form words that our image changes
Then comes the brands:
Christian, Alcoholic, Bipolar
Segmented definitions follow the cattle
Cut from the herd of a certain cloth
punched out, sewn up, buttoned down
Seer suckers sitting round tables
drinking shit stained coffee
smoking on one side of the room
reading the same thing
over & over
to God we are special
yet he loves us all the same

‘Jacob Have I Loved’
What a terrible book
How is it that I’ve read so much
crappy sappy schlock
cover to cover
And yet the books that really matter
only peruse my palate peace meal
Serving platypus platitudes
eating around the poison parts
till your Aunt tells you to clean your plate
sit there all night until the pain causes you
to eviscerate the art-o-choke
like swallowing cotton swabs
to fool the authorities
into thinking you unfit to clean your ears
let alone join the ranks

08/18/2017