AND WELL THIS IS IT
Here in the middle of New York City that
fiery church bell rings like a lie. Who are
they kidding with that? This is the most
God-forsaken and secular place I've ever
been and - like creeps all over - they
insist on pouting some faux religious crap
in every corner's face. Cardinal Fatboy Dolan,
even he never shuts up. St. Patrick's Day, Easter,
whichever lazy fantasy he pulls forth, his cassock
bleats on about. And on. You know how I hate
this all, right? The lame, bent lanyards who stumble
on to church and bow their purloined heads - stolen
emptiness, with misplaced gathers and pleats. At least
thirty taxis are lined up out front, for three blocks : first
these people walk themselves in, then they want rides
home. That's as backwards as their ancient thinking :
God is a curse, God steals coins and gives them to
Caesar, God bows its head with witches and wizards,
proclaimers of death and devotion alike, God eats
pretzels and wafers, God takes no nothing from
no one, God goes home and God eats.
It's as simple as that.
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