Tuesday, June 3, 2014


   absolution one buck at a time

Question you the God of man
ask the whys of its Christ the change
unrecognized in the eyes of them
who’d rule the universe.

Murder and death over crisp paper sheets
made of trees, fibers and pretty pictures mixed with water,
Religions of God’s many faces
long are the commodities of good and evil,
not a short life shared in once abundant lands.

Sun dry the brick about to be fired in ovens
used to minimize the once enslaved but alive,
There is no better faster meaningful way to worship God
no, no, no, not that one on chapel ceilings he’s only paint and egg wash

The bum of cardboard sign millionaires, told me.
“God is a nice fat wad found on soulless streets
filled with guilty generous suckers driving old heaps
but who can read.

He bakes in the heat his daily quota to make
his soul to the Lord given in remembrance
of them that sat hungry, homeless, fenced in,
facing a death all too real who came before him.

As he returned to his air conditioned home
taking the load off his back as he heads for another shower
to wash away dust, heat, and the sad look,
no longer needing for the rest of this day to remind others
of man’s sins, forcing them to buy
their mortalities ease for a stop light length of time.

Until the next timed signal
creates an audience upon the cross
of asphalt for a skinny well fed cardboard
king of man out early, laboring in the heat of other ovens
not found in his paid for house
where he makes his signs new each day
with church sign inspired platitudes.

Never hungry for a sorrowful look
nor homeless for the water raised in pity
in the name of the universe
where no spoiled wine
is served the truly pained
bereft of the God of man
and its myriad cardboard profits.

© M Durfee


  1. our appetites for god are out of control, and our little tastes/touch with any amount of them keep us working for more and feed the dream that one day we might actually have enough you know...

  2. Oooh Mark ... you'll never get to heaven now!
    Unless Detroit is heaven? Or the other place ...

  3. Moloch! How can you look and look and look, prophet?

    ALOHA from Honolulu

  4. I have not heard a better description of money than that?

  5. Like they used to say,
    That's righteous!

  6. I'm pretty sure god can't write nor read. Never needed to, never will need to.
    But, actions? That's something else.
    Your writing spurs others to action (or avoiding action if it's detrimental, like visiting Detroit without a goal or at least a guide) and that's a good thing, my friend. As for heaven? Heck, bro, we're living in it now. And, due to reincarnation (or should you be a redneck, reintarnation) we'll all get to taste the fruits of our collective actions.

    Should be loads of fun, I think.

  7. My concept of god is something that swirls through and in us, connecting us to each other and to those gone, bound to the forces of Nature and whispering on the wind. No old man with a long beard sitting on a cloud--but wait, maybe that could be you who is the god of my understanding.


So Walking Man I was thinking...