Our High, Pale Horse

Everyday we hear vulgarities
And blasphemies uttered
In language most coarse.

People feel free to be
Politically incorrect
With no apparent remorse.

Rudeness and incivility
Prevail all day, everyday,
Of course.

Drivers give no room to
Other drivers making roads
A demolition derby course.

Horns blast and shouts
Can be heard referring
To the large ass of a horse.

The middle finger, the mocking
Sign of peace, is thrust
With great force.

Reds shout at Blues;
Blues shout back
Until everyone is hoarse.

And the biggest casualties
Are ever and always
The poor and minorities
Who get no justice
In due (or old or new)

In a country grown
So fearful and hateful,
The least (the poor and
The minorities), as Jesus put it,
Are his brothers and sisters,
Of course.

Jesus calls all American
Christians to repentance
And great remorse

And the will to do justice,
Love mercy, walk humbly and
Get the hell off our
Death bearing high,
Pale horse,

Hearing Jesus say, “Fear not,”
And Julian of Norwich pray,
“All shall be well; all
Manner of things shall
Be well” in eternity
Which is right now,
Right now, right now,
Of course.


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