Kids are we of One High God or other.
There are no atheists around a campfire.
Praise the spook that hankers for a crown.
An unborn baby drowned with its mother,
Tipped from a rescue boat into the flood.
Scream a prayer to the God-stinking mud.
Cosmic altar ego, slaughtered meat-hiss,
With such a fairy’s tail who needs a clown?
Toys are thee. As for my house and me,
We need a better God than this.
(c) 2020 JMN