World Orders Anew

Age will coax men toward humility
They ought to have considered all along
And that New Sermon Mount proclivity
Was a too fresh notion for heads too strong.

Fast forward to editor Jefferson
Who recomposed that testament again,
Minus the zombie resurrection son,
Hoaxing some absurdly spiritual men.

But ladies as well just can't get their fill
Of "He is risen" as the type of phrase
That smacks of the gooey load that they spill
After idle Priapic worship and praise.

Time will tell regarding heaven and hell
But let us, even in church, keep our head
For that is where our true spirit will dwell...

Except when too certifiably dead.

Perhaps some day full centuries hence
Another rare scribe will edit anew
A gospel allowing for every sense...

Without an immaterial ado.

But meanwhile, I won't hold any breath
Regarding afterlives, limbos, or death
Since life is here and life is now
And metaphysics are the sacred cow
Fueling that old two bird in the bush
Cock and bull afterlife ambition push
Fracking the Eden we could retain
If we would just use our collective brain
For making love, and never war,
And cutting each other some slack...or more!

Who might be in charge? I do not know it,
But surely we've had worse than a poet. ,