Some Bad Poetry

I haven't done one of these for ages! Time to correct the mistake is now. Here is a religious poem, suitable for the current arguments about the anti-religious and blasphemous bloggers and so on.

Sundays

In this country Sundays
are ironed glaring white.
Prayer books and promises
and the searing, searing light.

God, we have dropped by
to tell the deal is on.
But tell us. Tell us why
you lost your only son.

Never mind.

On weekdays
we run the business right.
We climb the human ladder,
we bare our teeth. They're white.

God, you do not understand
the modern world. It's tough.
This land you gave us. This land
has made us hard and rough.


Heh.