Because The Lady Is A Cult Poem by gershon hepner

Because the lady is a cult,
she shot me like a catapult
when I explained I could no longer
worship at her shrine. I wrong her
in a way, because she’s modest
about the fact that she’s been goddessed,
and isn’t proud, though she’s divine,
but I can’t worship at her shrine
now I’m her persona non grata.
I’m hoping, madder than a hatter,
to find another goddess who
will let me worship her. A few
have told me they’re available,
and readily e-mailable,
and once I’ve chosen one, the least
I will demand as her high priest
of entertainment that’s adult
is that she lose her catapult.

Inspired by a poem, “She Is a Cult, ” by Michael McCall:

not only are you burning in the sun
but you are burning alone
to restore yourself
trying to be something that she could love
but you don’t have the strength to hold out
you are having an internal battle
she is just testing you
you can prove yourself
that’s what you keep telling yourself
as soon as you fail
she’ll say you were almost there
she doesn’t want to be happy
keep staring off in to the distance
keep blaring your music
she is a cult

8/29/08