From the walls of the seminary

The 23rd Psigh

Bush is my shepherd. I dwell in want.
He maketh logs to be cut down in the national forests.
He leadeth trucks into the still wilderness.
He restoreth my fears.
He leadeth me in the paths of international disgrace for his ego's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of pollution and war,
I will find no exit, for thou remainst in office.
Thy tax cuts for the rich and thy media control
they discomfort me.
Thou preparest an agenda of deception, in the presence of thy religion.
Thou anointest my head with foreign oil.
My healh insurance runneth dry.
Surely megalomania and false patriotirms shalle follow me
all the days of thy terms.
And my jobless child shall dwell in my basement forever.

-Anonymous

Leaving

i'm leaving on a plane for chicago
though your rules would hold me captive
to another yoke
all the doubts you paint around me
are the portait of your faith
and I will not play the Mary
to your Jesus yesterday

and this writing is a warning
that the tales we tell are true

in the dream i was a prophet
in the waking less a fool
in the sharing of a vision
that your sacred cannot hold
and though another stole my blessing
and led you far from home
my sins become the means of grace
for your kingdom come

and this writing is a warning
that the tales we tell are true

take me now before the temple
behold the thirty coins
that bought my silence, meet and right before your gods
so i'll sell my soul to buy some nails
for the cross you'd have me wear
but the lions feed on guilt tonight
in the den you hide your prayers

and this writing is a warning
that the tales we tell are true

i lay no claim to martydom
i'm not your pharisee
i'll never feed the masses' presence
to the altar of your greed
which leaves one choice for the time you find me gone
but to leave me in chicago
and post your guards at my tomb

and this writing is a warning
that the tales we tell are true