to the easy east siders

'dip shits love God' a poem from a struggling dip shit God of outcasts, God of love God below and God above He's the God of Jacob have you even read - about their wrestle? or've you been busy - hating the I AM for what I did in His name - is like beating your bride because i beat her first (or slandered her or something) i mean, maybe you should forgive ME for misrepresenting and what if since you're the God-breathed majesty at the tips of his fingers He grew your mustache hairs and gave you all the good you've ever had you give some thought to that - what about that wondering-shaped hole inside your chest, man or those freewheel rebuild-needing chug a lug motors we've got spinning that we call minds thats keepin you awake at night rolling around your bed creating like some CREATING like your Beginning did (poetry), what do you think it is inspiring you to THAT cause if all i am is a sweet materialist anatomical illusion, molecular nothing - then there's no more truth in beauty than there is in a methane flavored shit, i think . and all your uplifting abstractions, about the fire in my soul and great glory starry image magical i'm made of is bullshit, man if That ain't true then this, this ain't true & we're all gathered here with our hearts on paper plates passing them around the open mic kitchen table hoping (but i can't have Hope) having faith in the outstretched accepting family hand next to you (but i can't have Faith) we're passing around transcendental truth and quiet time and all the shit you've ever been through, the blues, but if we believe that Eternity is just some fabricated right - wing fist shaking consuming (those mother fucking bastards) concept false, falsified then our little thinking heart games here are one colossal fucking loss. you see a reflection can't be truer than itself and if ITSELF is for dip shits what does that make us? i mean think, see, know, believe (gasp - that, well) you came here for God! omni all, hidden in our lines and written on our hearts the Breeze every Wrinkle on a neighbors face every sight our eyes have seen was - what did you want to see, tonight? cause you're spending a lot of time talking about what 'doesn't exist' and what pisses you off and then again to you the wounded reigning steward of that pale punctured masterpiece you call a chest - I'm just another dip shit wishing & i'm at the Well while you go on pretending, and denying, and ironically reaching through words for truth you say you don't believe in