Mel C. Thompson

I Can Only Respond With A Poem

I sent the poem you sent me
to a devout, widowed, Catholic woman;
and, upon seeing it, she gave up her life of prayer,
certain that God either never existed, no longer exists,
or that He exists but must be evil. I can’t say why,
but I hope that this little poem somehow
brings you the peace you’ve been looking for.
Oh wait! I forgot! You keep reminding me
that you’re looking for war, not peace.
So you see, all of my theology
is either unworkable or unmarketable.
Conservatives reject my religion
due to my penchant for hookers, gambling,
smoking, drinking and blasphemy.
Liberals reject my religion
because I can write and they can’t.
Hence, my poetry career is ruined forever.
I actually prayed to God about this
and He said that he doesn’t like poetry,
or poets; and therefore I’m standing
on solid ground. My fan club now
has no members. My book sales
are zero. Immortality stars right here.
My last letters from the late Donna Lane
are etched in my mind. As she lay dying,
she told me to tell everyone to fuck off.
Because of her courage, I’m hoping
the people of the world will erect shrines
in her honor. She forever refused
to believe anyone’s bullshit.
You’ve got to love that.