Thursday, January 15, 2009

A Psalm to the God of Glory


I am a stoned dingleberry flitting through the galaxy ‘til I splat against the left nipple of the befuddled God of Glory beating his drum with his obsidian phallus roaring, “Suffer the little children unto me!” and with each beat of his drum comes a blinding flash and a deafening boom sowing its burning starlets on flesh that screams as each starlet burns toward the bone to the music of children crying “Mommy! Mommy! Make it stop!” and each thunder clap scatters shards of broken glass that glittered like diamonds in the moonlight deaf to the wail of sirens in the night and the stench of charred flesh for broken glass cares not nor knows not, and the demigod jehovah smiles, and the God of Glory beats his drum as he sings lullabies to the burning children.

…your whatever


Anonymous said...


That is right up there with Psalms:137-9 -- "Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones."

If you would be so kind as to hermetically seal some of the 'kind bud' you have, and send it in a discreet package to 'the alley right behind Ming's Chinese Restaurant' in Harrisburg, PA....perhaps then I can join you in your Holy Spirit-inspired speaking in tongues. lol!

Case Wagenvoord said...

I'm afraid the inspiration comes from a defective gene. I can too easily walk a mile in someone elses mocasins.