Ooooooh, I'm feeling so bitter and twisted that I thought I'd inflict a poem on you all. This is actually a development of an idea I had years ago that I never fully worked out, and is very much a rough draft.


I made a god
Of tattered sticks and tattered rags
Of broken mirrors and plastic bags
I made a god
From holy books
And rotten wood
I made a god
Of Dollar bills
And Shopping tills
I made a god
From any trash
And my body, sold for cash
I made a god
Made like me
Made of shit surrounding me
Made of lies
Made of cries
Made of screams
Made of dreams
I made a story for my God
That told of His Holy Wrath
And of how he sent to me
Tattered sticks and tattered rags
Broken mirrors, plastic bags
Holy Books, rotten wood
Other things,
But all was Good.