gods are as mad and useless as constellations
idle fancy perverted by the literal-minded
into a caricature of function

as tiresome as Christians
and other traffickers
in implausible narratives

oracles of foolishness
professors of superfluity
in synchronized bulimia

there are those who, seeing the light,
succumb to an instinct to immolate
with the immoral consistency of the devout

don't seek a soul within
spirit is a genial breath between