A god’s Nervous Shit (A re-imagining of the Great Flood)

Originally posted on Aleksis Faust :

Stress gestates in the cave of his bowels,

The plate of the world impregnated with the foul,

The red runs of deleterious accounts,

Moral dysentery in copious amounts.

A head count is made and an evacuation planned,

The little army of turds to the porcelain promise land,

But it turns out that they orbit rather sordidly,

Forlornly mourning their former glory in the moorings of their mortuary .

But their god relieved from the refuse of his grief,

Absolved them of their deeds and ushered them to leave,

But the little shits in disbelief, believed themselves deceived,

By their malevolent creator who tried to drown them in the sea.

Choleric and caustic, hot-collared and hostile,

This god would drown them all if it was possible.

He pushed and he puckered, he panted and plunged,

But alas the great hole remained still plugged.

Yet all of a sudden, with a rumble…

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