When God’s not there

Everything is impossible,
Well, everything good and right and fair, that is;
Wrong is the common denominator,
The glue of things, holding it all together;

Not much good, for sure,
Just hateful, painful thoughts and actions
That are likely to promote more of what’s wrong,
Certainly, wrong is self-promoting;

Wrong loves its own company,
That whole misery loving company thing,
You know how that saying goes,
Horrible news, terrible consequences of
Something someone warned us about;

Like as if its discovery would
Turn one’s stomach, make one lose one’s lunch,
But even good intentions were simply
Railroads heading into nowhere;

Hard and black, damp and lonely,
Demons celebrating in the dark,
Turning somersaults when God is absent,
Latching on to the innocent, the tremulous,
Partying on the coattails of my formal wear.

They succeed at their rivalries when God’s not there.

©2015 Steven Barto

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