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