FOR JOHN HEYWOOD (1497-1580)

If all religions were an opium,
I’d surely praise the friendly gods
Who in their wisdom sought to dope me numb.
Instead it's turned us into squads
Of righteous ravers. “Kill blasphemers,”
Shout out the preachers waving femurs
Who Sampson-like pile up the bones,
As bankers do their failed home loans.
Their struggle for superiority-
As rabbi, imam, preacher, priest
To mark the others as the Beast
And claim alone the God’s authority-
Just goes to show, as Heywood said,
“In church you’ll find that God is dead.”