Father, Unstained

When I talk to God,
Damned unanswering eggs of innocence
Crack and burst forth unto to me
Like shells of Godwin's Oath,
Naked platitudes unable to be
Intercepted,
Deaf to all else,
Unhearing

While God's mistress eavesdrops
On His wife's painted birth-givings
As I cower in the cluttered corner,
Knowing not when I may also begin living.
He is pleased to collect His shiny new untruths —
More joy-sucking, carnivorous,
Immaculate charlatans
Giving us struggle and scourge.
This is what You believe we deserve.
©Rebecca Pilcher Sissom