spit in

There's a little spittle in the middle of my Bible. Someone riddle me something solid, Hard to swallow. Follow me to hell, Make me liable. Studious fool, Watch my drool pool on pages, Antiquated age of rust. Loss of interest- Lack of trust- Cross my heart- Turn to dust- Spat curses at verses in churches. Sat calm clammy palmed Reading psalms on my knees. Ceased fleeting words Of bleeding herds bleating Sacrificial feast. Seized my seat at supper At the very least. I spit on parables and miracles I think are full of shit. Rip out contradicting mantras Predicting judgment. Banal tropes meant to permit Hope to the pathetic. Let slip saliva, sopping stanzas Of sentimental slop. Divine words- Broken spine- Worn out, tired lines- Doubt wired in my mind. Poised to moisten paper Paragraphs of prejudice. Lubricating justice- Worth the risk- Word of God- Weigh the odds- Wet the text- Wonder what happens next. Show me consequence Shower me in misery Shallow hallowed halls of hell I've got a soul to sell- I've got a story to tell- And God knows I do it well.