Long Beards and Fat Bellies

He was spotted spinning the wheels of his
diesel guzzling the oil not even
the magnates could send his way fast enough.

It was at the local store where a regular
he walked away with the daily case
of the brew that generously nourished his entrails.

Cheetos from an ongoing night still adorned
the ancestral forest of grey overgrowth
he boasted as he ambled across the concrete.

Upon the gun rack the loaded rifle waited
for the first opportunity to rattle at a crowd
in the name of a fantasy he made up.

On the passenger seat lay the cornucopia
of words and verses and hymns and psalms
he continued to twist to his purpose.

In a few minutes in the grease-stained T
ornate with the precious fish
he was to declaim again the same directives.

His wife at the keyboard revered her
rhinestone dress as she sang mocked
by the luscious girlfriends in the congregation.

He told them all how to live, whom to hate
what not to read, not to watch R rated films
while his soul traveled to climes of cherished depravity.

Grayish hair, a beer gut to brave a grizzly
and the sacred text they all swear by
while the God they worship looks down in horror.

They fly hate flags through town
discard those who want to truly believe
and proclaim, only they know any truth at all.