Poetry

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We're door to door Christians
Hats in hand, knocking
Hoping to get a foot in the door
And sell God a bill of goods
But He's not buying

We use the name of Jesus
Like a password to a speakeasy
We take His body and blood
But we've denied him three times
Before we're back to our seats.

Carpetbagger Christians
Sharp-eyed opportunists
Trespassing on His domain
Watching pornography and reality TV
But still trying to ride His train

We seek His favor
We've sacrificed the lamb
But on cold desert nights
We ignore His fiery lights
And keep our eyes on the sand

We've purchased our salvation
Like a lot we hope to resell
When the shopping mall expands
What we see as an end
Should be a beginning
But our rejection
Stands

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