Outer Darkness

cast out into outer darkness

a place steeped in such starkness

you have to be on the inside

to understand all their sides

and yet her excommunication

plots out a new deviation

free from the temple chains

now allows you Christian gains

but in this contest of life

there is too much bullshit strife

screwy rituals we all follow

that are carved-out, empty, hollow

because men are tainted with a virus

that will completely rewire us

plentiful heaven, all full of family

all because you acted out the homily

but transgress against their laws

you are taking the longest fall

for her, there are other choices

the same garbage in many voices

so why even engage the practice?

it winds up as sex with a cactus

must be the inner need to transcend

and expect some kind of coming again

and people devote the crux of their lives

to churches like drunks do to dives

and that may be the final line

since the start of human time

they worship the weird and strange

from the lukewarm to the deranged

stupid beings that believe in the fraud

and most of us don't find that odd

so maybe we deserve the outer darkness

in all of its completing starkness

our planet is surrounded by it

nobody can really deny it

alone, a silent excommunication

cut off from alien visitation

this is us in outer darkness

a race chained to its starkness

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

This is an intense poem, seething anger at organized religion -- the sex with a cactus a particularly effective visual.

[Kenneth The Poet]

Thank you, KL. I am glad you like it.