by Julie Steiner
Her God is Santa Claus. Remember those
mid-ceiling scenes of Michelangelo’s?
Old white guy. Bearded. Fierce. Great muscle tone.
Conclusion: Santa. (On testosterone.)
She claims to be His prophet. She’s devised
a scheme to get His giving supersized.
It seems to work. With all He seems to bring her,
she seems to have Him wrapped around her finger.
Her God is Santa Claus. Or close enough.
Stay on His good side, and He’ll give you stuff.
And if you’re poor, that’s proof you’ve pleased Him less
than those (like her) He’s showered with largesse.
She claims to be His prophet, on a mission
to bless/endorse whatever politician
keeps rich folks rich and poor folks wretched, still.
Inequity in equity’s His will.
Her God is Santa Claus. And you’ve been naughty.
He knows what you’ve been up to. You’ve been caught. He
will leave your household destitute. You’re screwed.
But for a fee, she’ll change His attitude.
She claims to be His prophet. If you give her
a large enough donation, she’ll deliver
the benefits of Naughty List protection.
Your scandals won’t prevent your re-election.
Her God rewards and punishes. He’ll strike
and strike and strike the folks her fans don’t like.
By preaching what her funders most like hearing,
she puts the prophet into profiteering.
She claims to be His mouthpiece. Where’s the love
for others that His Word kept speaking of?
Her rants are full of something, but it’s clear it
is not—as she insists—the Holy Spirit.
Her God is Santa Claus. Saint Paula White’ll
get you the goods that good works don’t entitle
do-gooders to. It’s faith that works! Believe
that if you send her God-bribes, you’ll receive!
No need to change your ways: pay her to wheedle.
If fear won’t make you do it, sloth or greed’ll.
Call now! An operator’s standing by.
Give hiring her to grease God’s palm a try.
Julie Steiner is a pseudonym in San Diego. Besides TheNewVerse.News, the venues in which her poetry has appeared include the Able Muse Review, Rattle, Light, and the Asses of Parnassus.
