It brings me joy to report that to

Scarecrows we all look the same,

Evil people go to the bathroom

The same way good people do,

If smokescreens aren’t a religion

They soon will be, and the pious smile

Is the first sign of a double-crossing.

But if I announce to the assembly

That these days I write more songs than prayers

It would not be a lie, perhaps

A renunciation of the power of gods

To remake themselves in our image.

If I have nothing to hide, I have nothing.

Paradise hasn’t always been a tenement

But it’s happier now that it is.

Photo by Zuzana Kacerová on Unsplash