My golden calf before me.
Sit I do - sometimes for days.
Worship your images - chair style pew.
Your idols are a being and way.
The religion cast to all and few.
Idol hours spent with you.
My heaven - hand on cue.
Many gods you bring to me.
They cross the mighty sea.
Cruise ships like Noah - receive.
Is it satans true religion ?
The other channel shows division.
One more turn of the cue.
I'm in a T.V. church - MARK 2
Such a question in all life.
What do I really worship ?
Are they my gods or slapstick.
YET - there on the big chair.
The one with the fluffy, fuzzy hair.
Is my simple BIBLE talking to me.
from my poem book DREAMS 3