2015-2016 Poetry

Christian Spittle

 10/4 - 10/5/2015

I saw it first at the edge of your grin,

While you were talkin,

Like dried spittle or a cold sore,

Spread like Herpes or Mano,

And I thought we were getting along, but no,

Chocolate and caramel, chicken and alfredo,

Like teeth and toothbrushes, blood and blue bruises,

Why did you have to fuckin do this ?

It was then I saw it was a crucifix, the cross, the beaten, bloody Jesus,

Hanging out from the corner of your mouth like a cancerous cigarette,

Just picture it,

A corner, then a block, then a sign above a head and the face of agony, I-N-R-I,

Fire and brimstone, got the wrong skin tone, I just have to intone, "Why?"

You're defensive, I'm laughin, I wish this didn't happen,

but I'm a cynic, and a psychic,

I predict you will not like it when I outright deny it,

I don't buy it, Just try it,

Stick it to me, Try n sell it to me,

God's salesman better know how to tell it to me,

Since it's straight from the mouth of the uber Doogie,

It's prolly one Heaven of a major loogie,

So spit it like a prophet,

You've got God's word, so drop it,

If it's true I bet I can't top it.

If it's righteous, come on, don't stop it, let's rock it, just hock it!

Try n sell it to me like your God would,

Try n sell it to me like your God could,

Try n sell it to me like Madonna,

Try n sell it to me like Lady Gaga,

Try n sell it, like ice cream and Fanta,

Try n sell it like a Christmas Santa,

Eggnog, Christmas Trees, Barbies, SUV's,

Marketing a child's dreams,

'Tis the season to be spending, falalalala-lala-la-la

Try n sell it like Christmas Santa!

Or can't you take the banter?

Try n sell it, try n sell it, try n sell it,

You tell it,

I'm so sorry I sound so bitter,

But I hate it when people litter,

And you just spewed a bunch garbage on me,

Garbage just ain't a way of life for me,

I lived my whole life with people like you,

God is the way and any other is untrue,

When I get older, when I get sick, when I get lost or buried thick,

I'll come back to my faith like a ghost to a grave, as if I just cannot escape,

Is it a moebius nightmare I just can't awake from, for God's sake, hon,

It doesn't sound so fun,

What you describe is suffering, which sounds like terrible,

Sounds like people paraphrase that parable,

I just can't believe, because my trust was busted,

I know that no one in the world, can be trusted,

Not even in my head, not even when I'm dead, not even if I take them into my bed... to wed, to wed,

I know how you feel contested, attacked and oppressed,

But faith needs to be tested, your faith is never rested, and if you just believe you're blessed, I can't suggest it's real at all,

So best of wishes, and I truly hope you don't fall.