Tuesday, December 25, 2012

On the American Dream: Sub-mission


I start with a tree, a coat, and a frog
No coupons there
But a yearning for God

Who can’t always be seen

He’s mostly known through a fog
By the back,
By those who will flog

In His name; Now your name in a log
In a cabin that’s poor
Where you’ll hog

Books and dreams and launch a monologue
That will end
In a field, at an address: Boom!

There starts the dialogue
Between you – the white ghost –
And me – the girl from the smog.

Because you know the Truth:
The Facts, the Dates, the Experts
But I know that Moses defeated Og

And that God speaks in stories
                 He doesn’t blog. 

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