Pocketbooks and Prayers

I came across what might be a godsend this month: the random poem idea generator, which pieces together some interesting bits of information to manufacture some very thought-provoking (and at other times, potentially ridiculous) writing prompts. For poem #8, I was given this combination:

 

“Pick apart the rich while everyone around you is deep in prayer.” This one (#8) is as yet untitled:

 

It is not difficult to condemn a man

who lines his pockets with silver

when the raincloud he seeded

grows thick and heavy below him.

 

The joined palms on the earth

don’t pray for rain, but they still get wet

and despite their psalms, no sterling rays

warm their shaking hands.

 

Someday, they tell themselves,

a piece of heaven might fall

or the stalks they sow will grow tall enough

to climb and kiss the sun

 

And seated at the throne of god

will be nothing more than a man in a suit

with silver in his pockets

and his head in the clouds.

 

 

If you’re curious as to the more ridiculous possibilities offered by the idea generator, this was my other option: “Realize you were right all along about firewood while looking at pornography.” Granted, that might have some serious potential.

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