My God Poem by Robert Rorabeck

My god doesn’t have a
D$ck: she is the other
Sort of god,
And I was held up at
Gunpoint,
But at least I can fly:
My god has tits and peppermint
Breath:
Her eyes go on forever,
Cataracts distilling
Her spirits for long
Jawed tourists;
My god does gymnastics on
The apex of my childhood’s
Roof:
My god lounges tonight all
Fun and glowing
Maybe my god is
With child tonight
Without even knowing;
And while I get ready
To slip into despondency
Tonight
All I can conclude
Is that my god
Is still
Going,
A beautiful young lady
Whose yard her fine
Young husband is mowing.