Yo, God

Yo, God I’ve got a question for you.
Are you Jew, Muslim, Christian or Hindu?
Do you hear when they talk or are you blank as my wall?
Are you small and compact and sit inside a room,
Or is it a tomb that houses your presence?
Can your essence be spread by just one faith,
And can they teach hate for the ones who can’t understand?
God, are you man, transgender or animal?
Do you have mandibles, fur or down?
Are you a clown? A non serious god, an old uncle who lives down the street?
Do your feet rise above the ground, or are you like us:
Not far from the dust and dirt and piss and cigs ?
God, don’t stay with the Big; come out of those stuffy spots-
Those churches, ‘gogs, mosques and temples- run outside, quick!

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Bourgeois Christ

Not the son of gods but the son of a poor man,
Not a holy messiah but a saviour of the spirit.
To the Christ who whipped the money-men,
The Christ who stood against his oppressors,
Was betrayed, tortured and dried in the sun.
The working class hero whom all the bourgeoisie love –
They now sit in church, praying to the one they scorned.
Christ is not so easy, I tell you.