Submission

Submission Silence! Fall down upon your face And try to get a sense Of God's malevolence.

Fire, illness, disturbance of the air; It all is there.

A million little children died last night.

This must have been His notion Of how to make us worship with devotion ­ All His abominable machinations.

War among the nations is His masterpiece ­ Moon god, Sun god, Allah in his lair; It does not matter what the name or form Of His abnormal ways. Grateful prayer Is the way unto His roots.

Before life's over, you will lick God's boots And worship him and grovel For the chance to do it.

But I, for one, not having fear of death Will never utter – not a single breath To give Him praise.

He may be author of my days And His abominations may abound But His power is not infinite.

Its expression is constrained by opposites, His puissance pinioned and His rage walled in As He sits, just like the criminal He is, Handcuffed in Heaven.

Carl Estrin