They discuss forbiddens like bread,
an appetizer served cold.
They bow their covered heads,
their features morphing into designer patterns.
They write God on their roundabouts,
just another underwear billboard.
Thou shalt not lick bellybuttons
covered with hair.
Thou shalt adore me, adore me, adore me!
If I were a god, I’d be selfish, too.
Maybe next time I will be.
I will cover a woman with black and contempt,
as He would have wanted.
Oh brother, I will tell you why God is not a woman:
because He sleeps alone.
an appetizer served cold.
They bow their covered heads,
their features morphing into designer patterns.
They write God on their roundabouts,
just another underwear billboard.
Thou shalt not lick bellybuttons
covered with hair.
Thou shalt adore me, adore me, adore me!
If I were a god, I’d be selfish, too.
Maybe next time I will be.
I will cover a woman with black and contempt,
as He would have wanted.
Oh brother, I will tell you why God is not a woman:
because He sleeps alone.
2 comments:
This is a powerful poem. A polemic really.
What I love? "They write God on their roundabouts,
just another underwear billboard.
Thou shalt not lick bellybuttons
covered with hair."
What hurts? Is God so misogynistic that he shuns the feminine?
Thank you, Scheherazade. I do think that, unfortunately, in certain places, some "gods" (in the sense of how people behave under the guise of "God's Will" or wish) are still very misogynistic...
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