Extremists
tend to regard themselves
through a prism,
one of their own making,
faking exceptional,
answerable only
to their own scope for irrational
through which they see crystal clear
and consequently do not require
the inconvenience of relational,
the distraction of negotiational,
or those blind to their unique brand
of remarkable.

And occasionally, sadly,
they can sufficiently
fake credible to become
President
(which is not the same
as presidential).

What made me an atheist!!

I get the question a lot!!

And my reply isn't for the
                               faint-hearted

Giving back in return what the
         the priest gave me but in return.


                            Over the alter,
all you heard from his lips where
             profanities!!!

Oh Jesus,
          ****** it!!

holy mother of god!!

    He took the bread and his ****

drank the wine...

And I thought if a man of the cloth could
           say the lord's name in vain so much
how could there be a lord if

he was blasphemous to such a degree...

I left him tied to the alter, a cross down
his throat... swallowing his faith,
             but his god couldn't save him...

I did the sign of the ******* as I left....

Sorry said the merry man, adjacent on his way,

I've gone and ticked you off while I've been out tramping today

And in my careless frolic I seem to have stole your heart

What brutal lust you blow towards me, gushing like a ****


But I'm not la-da-dee-da-dee, a manly bearded sprite

Jingle though my stirrups do like dormice held too tight

I'm a serious enterprise, a man deeply invested

In stacking stocks and picking prices, if you're interested?


She danced reluctantly to him, unnatured to the rhythm

But with a wink she start'd to slink and jim-jam along with him

The two then picked their sandals up and shuffled down the street

And drank and laughed amerrily at all they chanced to meet


To the bank they wandered, legislating they did go

In government, in finance, in high station to and fro

Each day they yawned and gargled on a fresh new tonic smell

And went on down the street to make a fresh mismanaged hell


Soon agiggling and adultering they fell down in a mess

Holes and tears ashaming his and her once modest dress

There they lay and blocked the road till bobby picked them up

And once they'd laughed their fill of him they bribed the greasy pup


He took them to the city square and let them borrow his hat

They gave out fines and sentences for being thin or fat

They stood on boxes, had ideas for rent for half a pence

And sat gracefully cross-eyed on the splintering picket fence


Then donned a mitre, did a dance, their pageantry displayed,

They became gods, just for a laugh, the vicarage dismayed

When down from heaven lightning bolts, shot with a holy hum

Came buzzing like a hornets' nest and shocked them on the ***


A **** of smoke, a whiff of cheese, the townsfolk breathed release

Gone at last those terrors past, they could return to peace

Then up from high a saintly sigh two angels billowed down

Golden halos greasy and no pants beneath their gown


The townsfolk wept and cried aloud, their stomachs plopped and churned

To see the pair of villains there, so gracefully returned

Blessed be the kingmakers the two of them agreed

Until next weekend, Duw my dear, and until then, God's speed.