Imagine How Much Like a Man’s Shaved Armpit Allah Would be without Mohammad
No matter who the god is, he needs men
To help. He needs the prophets to deploy
Their fiery beards and bristle-tongued quill pen
Before he can proceed to pushing pain as joy,
Vituperation, encoded advice,
Or condemnation from mystic teeth.
He also uses women to entice
Us. Gods smile strangely but then underneath
Their pleasant messages, throne coaxings, threats,
And poetry, the priestesses and priests
And Sybils leave us stewing in our sweats
While gods and seers gobble down their feasts
Of nectar and ambrosia, fat of rams,
Of babies fried on Baal—and slit-throat lambs.