Powerline Church of the Pigeon’s Perch

TheMagicRealist.com

We are gathered here on this pristine sunny day
With sky of blue gracious above humble ground.
We ain’t here to teach Jack, yet it turns out we do.
We fault Jack’s damned humanity in this Grand Zoo.
If mankind weren’t around would then balance abound?
Would the cloud then be relocated from nature’s way?

Turn now in your manuals to chapter four,
First fallopians two, then sub-paragraph twelve.
In there you will note that you haven’t a clue.
We’d revisit religion hard if we were you
‘Cause in shallower waters you’re destined to delve
As you fight about God and then try to keep score.

The energy pew yields an overhead view
Of up-righted mere oddlings who scurry about.
Is one worshiper’s worship another’s to scorn?
We’d say then there’s no sense in your having been born!
Who are we, though, to conflagrate your deepest doubt?
…Just true birds of a feather, unfettered and true.

We alighted here are a cooing creation
Not terribly concerned with your life in our way.
We enjoy your sick news and the various skews
Of your takes on mistakes as you call them the blues.
And before we adjourn our brief service today
Our offering to you is group defecation.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *