Saturday, April 02, 2005

To a Contemporary Bunkshooter

Spent a few minutes this weekend thumbing through a thick, red book of religious poetry. Found one by Carl Sandbug I hadn't read before. I don't think it's his best - it reads kind of like a letter to the editor - but it's better than any of that junk they print on funeral programs and get-well cards.

What? You want an excerpt?
You come along squirting words at us, shaking your fist and calling us all damn fools so fierce the froth slobbers over your lips. . . always blabbing we're all going to hell straight off and you know all about it.

Now just go read the poem, willya?

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