Michael Kalavik Poet Lyric

Gospel Plough

First you sit him down to dinner 
And you fill him full of sin, 
Then you nail him to the highway, sayin’, 
“Ya’ll come back again.”
If he bleeds, you cry, “Oh, mercy!” 
If he thirsts, you quench your own, 
Then you criticize his faults. 
Lord, won’t you leave the man alone?

Gotta find that living water. 
Gonna dig that well somehow. 
Gotta get behind that stubborn mule 
And work that gospel plough.

Though he dresses like Siddhartha, 
He’s a Steppenwolf at heart.
Got a martyr’s education. 
He’s made suffering an art.
Found out early in the garden 
When the viper bared its fangs,
A diploma’s only value 
Is the wall on which it hangs.

Gotta learn to take up serpents. 
Don’t be holier than thou.  
Gotta get behind that stubborn mule 
And work that gospel plough.

Now he parallels the main line, 
Slow and steady headin’ south, 
On the paved and undivided 
with a matchstick in his mouth.
He’ll be gone this time forever. 
You can take that to the bank. 
Have your right hand shake your left 
Because there’s no one else to thank.

Gotta bear the yoke and love it 
While you wipe your sweaty brow. 
Gotta get behind that stubborn mule 
And work that gospel plough.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment