Читать книгу Catastrophic - Humphrey Hartney - Страница 16

At the Methodist church up the street

The huge sign out the front hopefully pleads:

“Please pray

for much needed rain.”

We tried prayer

But the heavens blow like a dryer…

Push our words back into our mouths.

Our knees work themselves deeper into the dust

As we beg for relief.

No relief comes.

Our words are nothing,

and then

even less than nothing.

And these smoky, empty, persistent skies only prove

One of two things:

1) God doesn’t exist, or that,

if He does,

2) He's a merciless and sadistic cunt.