Why do the televangelists
beg and cajole me,
constantly ask me
for my money?
Surely they must know
that in Eden
which they promise,
we are all naked
and have no pockets.
Somewhere in here there is
a hidden irony, not irony really,
but a close enough approximation.
We are creatures of softness, we
relish textures that yield to our touch,
would rather be swaddled than armored,
vastly prefer the kitten or puppy
to the armadillo or porcupine.
It’s all about softness really.
And despite this primal desire
for pillows and down filled duvets,
when it comes to measuring value
we’re all about corners and hardness,
about solidifying our financial position.
And while we crave bills and coins,
our ultimate measure of success
are those crystals formed over eons,
made hard by pressure and time,
for those are the jewels of our existence.
She says she feels like she is getting to the end of her rope. He tells her to hold on more tightly, that he will search for additional rope and when he finds it, tie the new rope to the old. She says he could just go out and buy a new rope, much longer that the one to which she is clinging. He says she would have to pay for it and to get the money, she would have to let go of the rope to which she clings. She lets go of the rope and walks away, leaving it in a jumble at his feet.