In the land of skinny godz
there is famine and want
the people wander
eyes closed
voiceless
afraid of punishment
they tow the line
ignore the crimes
stand in the lines
pray for better times
but skinny godz don’t
hear
they don’t answer
blood dripping from their
eyes hands in
their pants caught
at the crossroads
of meaning and power
they don’t want you to
see them naked
lying and stealing
legs spread
syphilitic infected with
polytics
trying to assassinate
a paradigm shift
rewarding those who follow
targeting those who drift to the left
or live and die to do right
proclaiming
drink dirt call it water
fouling the natural order
skinny godz
made of plastic napalm dangling
from chains of depleted uranium
burning the necks of the desperate
guilt nesting in their craniums
like ruthless roof wrens
with no faith in their fate
no trust in the work of their hands
over standing their lack of innocence
sure they have sinned
in deed & by omission
in the land of skinny godz
no revelation without permission
and or prescription
the money is in the nurturing
of your condition
no cures no miracles
just tithes & gifts
no miracles no cures
better comes after this
more tithes more gifts
live on your knees
eyes towards heaven
remember only the
gifts & tithes
to a broke ass
skinny god who
has an accountant
counting on what
you can bring him
to manifest manna
for a constant hunger
while the people wander
in famine suffering want
bathing in the dirt
dreaming of water
eyes closed
voiceless
afraid of punishment
towing the line
ignoring crimes
standing in lines prostrate
praying for better times
skinny godz
don’t hear they
don’t answer
blood dripping from their
eyes