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Messing with the man upstairs, (temporary title)

by Darren Swift

I would have survived had not
god pissed on my shoes at
the end of the night, his
drunken sprayings spreading out
darkening my hush puppy suede.

Umbraged and resolute I swore
an age of discord unless
he sorried himself and cleaned
the stains from my footwear.
It's funny how things turn out.

The frogs were easy, locusts
delicately chocolate dipped
fed my house for a year...
It was the barren-ness that killed us
bleached us, leeched us...

No sack cloths and ashes for I,
a simple t, white,
emblazoned
"Don't fuck with god".

My penitence will last a thousand years...

07/07/2010

Posted on 07/07/2010
Copyright © 2022 Darren Swift

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Linda Fuller on 07/07/10 at 11:04 PM

It is, indeed, funny how things turn out...loved the chocolate dipped locusts...enjoyed this.

Posted by Stephan Anstey on 09/09/10 at 02:56 PM

Thanks for the laugh!

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