I Don’t Like the God You Talk to
Haldol will kill a man and what is left
is not quite human. I can speak to that:
the dead weight on the brain; the shuffling gait;
the void expression. Ways we are bereft.
As friends drifted away and the door locked
that led outside, I blessed all those I saw –
like some short-circuit, like a gun half-cocked –
on the Fifth Floor, that place outside the law.
“I don’t like the God you talk to,
He who set the tree for Absalom. He is cruel.
He told you
to smash your TV with a hammer
and break your records in half.
He told you you were worse than dirt.
From on high, your God spat on you and laughed –
and there you were saving the plants.
Don’t be the Messiah again.
Take your pills.
Do you see your prayers for Mankind answered?
Do you see all beings free?
I don’t like the God you talk to. He is killing you!
Take your goddamn pills.
There are worse things than forty extra pounds,
than drowsiness. For God’s sake, take your pills.”
I Don’t Like the God You Talk to
Thanks Phil! That is very useful to hear. I'm trying to avoid individual pages being too heterogeneous in this MS., and I think making some progress on that front. It's good to know the whole thing does some hanging together for you.
Cheers,
John
Cheers,
John