Karl Shapiro

(10 November 1913 – 14 May 2000 / Baltimore, Maryland)

I Am An Atheist Who Says His Prayers - Poem by Karl Shapiro

I am an atheist who says his prayers.

I am an anarchist, and a full professor at that. I take the loyalty oath.

I am a deviate. I fondle and contribute, backscuttle and brown, father of three.

I stand high in the community. My name is in Who's Who. People argue about my modesty.

I drink my share and yours and never have enough. I free-load officially and unofficially.

A physical coward, I take on all intellectuals, established poets, popes, rabbis, chiefs of staff.

I am a mystic. I will take an oath that I have seen the Virgin. Under the dry pandanus, to the scratching of kangaroo rats, I achieve psychic onanism. My tree of nerves electrocutes itself.

I uphold the image of America and force my luck. I write my own ticket to oblivion.

I am of the race wrecked by success. The audience brings me news of my death. I write out of boredom, despise solemnity. The wrong reason is good enough for me.

I am of the race of the prematurely desperate. In poverty of comfort I lay gunpowder plots. I lapse my insurance.

I am the Babbitt metal of the future. I never read more than half of a book. But that half I read forever.

I love the palimpsest, statues without heads, fertility dolls of the continent of Mu. I dream prehistory, the invention of dye. The palms of the dancers' hands are vermillion. Their heads oscillate like the cobra. High-caste woman smelling of earth and silk, you can dry my feet with your hair.

I take my place beside the Philistine and unfold my napkin. This afternoon I defend the Marines. I goggle at long cars.

Without compassion I attack the insane. Give them the horsewhip!

The homosexual lectures me brilliantly in the beer booth. I can feel my muscles soften. He smiles at my terror.

Pitchpots flicker in the lemon groves. I gaze down on the plains of Hollywood. My fine tan and my arrogance, my gray hair and my sneakers, O Israel!

Wherever I am I become. The power of entry is with me. In the doctor's office a patient, calm and humiliated. In the foreign movies a native, shabby enough. In the art gallery a person of authority (there's a secret way of approaching a picture. Others move off). The high official insults me to my face. I say nothing and accept the job. He offers me whiskey.

How beautifully I fake! I convince myself with men's room jokes and epigrams. I paint myself into a corner and escape on pulleys of the unknown. Whatever I think at the moment is true. Turn me around in my tracks; I will take your side.

For the rest, I improvise and am not spiteful and water the plants on the cocktail table.


Comments about I Am An Atheist Who Says His Prayers by Karl Shapiro

  • Susan Williams (1/11/2016 5:44:00 PM)


    How well he portrays the mind of man, confused, struggling, feeling so essentially alone in the universe- -even those who believe in God have the same bouts of doubt- -It can be said of all of us:
    How beautifully I fake! I convince myself with men's room jokes and epigrams. I paint myself into a corner and escape on pulleys of the unknown. Whatever I think at the moment is true. Turn me around in my tracks; I will take your side.
    (Report) Reply

    22 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Kim Barney (1/11/2016 7:56:00 AM)


    A creative poem by someone who (in his own mind) can be anything he wants. I once knew a man who said:
    'My grandfather was an atheist, my father was an atheist, and I thank God that I'm an atheist! '
    (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (1/11/2016 6:42:00 AM)


    Faith is the key of life; with the respect of creation. Nice work. (Report) Reply

  • (1/11/2016 5:34:00 AM)


    A soliloquy of a self centered successful person, , with a lot of assumptions and presumptions, who takes too much pride in his achievements. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 8, 2016



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