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
