Bow, ye Faithful! Bow!
For your Creation comes forward
Wrapped in the trappings of power
Wreathed in censorious brimstone
Flanked by slavering legions!
Genuflect! Bend the knee before Him!
This gold-plated god of hammered tin
Hear the sheet-metal thunder
Of empty pronouncements
And believe His words yet again!
Wail, thou dissenters, and lament!
As the paisley-clad dreams
Conceived in your Summer of Love
Are ground to dust and ash
Beneath His jackboot heel!
Kowtow, lick-spittle magnates!
Turn your fawning obsequiousness
And pettifogged morality
Up to Eleven
And pray you evade His notice!
Exalt, all, as Turpitude ascends!
Powered by the Voice of Millions
Who wanted nothing more
Than cheaper eggs and
Shelter from the storms.
Pray, you huddled masses!
Fellow citizens of the coming chaos!
Pray with every atom you possess
That we are all strong enough, in time,
To regret this thing we have done.
——————-
k
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 