Jerking Off With God

God’s firm hand
Has yet to come down
On me
As it has been interpreted
In Biblical Scriptures...

Condemning me for
Giving ‘myself’ a firm hand
Spilling seed.

He could smote me
As easily
As a good friend
Gacked up on coke
Could dab their cigarette repeatedly
Several times in an ashtray...
A cup
A bottle
The floor...
Stepping on it
Over and over
To make sure
That shit was out.

If it was truely a sin

Stab, stab, stab...

It would be over
The ash would be put out.

No fire.
Just the smell of smoke
For a little.

But

I don’t believe in a God
Like that.

I believe in a God of pleasure
Of love and kindness
And mercy.

I hold truth in a living God.
One that feels.

Not one that is ancient
And dead...

Impotent.

I believe in many Gods also.

There’s room for more than one.

Even a great Supreme Being
Couldn’t shoulder all of this baggage.

These Gods are everywhere
As horny as me
Seeing beauty that they have
Created all around them.

If they can’t fuck something
They’re going to fuck themselves
Like we do
If you’re an honest person.

If I’m born in his likeness
And he’s feeling half of the shit
I am

And he’s created all of this magnificence
That I have to look at
Everyday

I would concur
That his orgasms
Are way more explosive
Than mine.

Maybe that’s what
Started
All of this shit
In the first place.