Ecclesiastes

It's a labor of love,
Sucking a god through a straw;
Swallowing undigested prayers
And shitting pure damnation.

You are a kind of god,
Regal in your disappointment;
Your regret is dyed purple
And you will be buried
With your cats.

When you look at me
I can speak Hebrew.
When you talk to me
Seas part.
When you yell for your whiskey and water,
Frogs rain from the sky.

It is a labor of love,
Staying alive in this world.
We are all small gods
With small salvations
To offer to our own shadows.