Kissing and Praying is what Republicans do


What sticks to you like spandex,
Are your set ways as a republican; like saying
A silent prayer doing 100 miles per hour, 
On the freeway, or kissing my wife
Just for the sole reason she is there
Right in front of you. You are a republican,
The kind some people love to hate, and still
You pledge your allegiances to a picture of an elephant,
Hanging with a “vulnerable” tag, making
You just a little uneasy. “Am I really an endangered species?”
You think with your eyes open. Still, you kiss with
Your eyes closed, and so do you, in reciting a prayer,
And lips, they close in and interface,
Just like two palms in prayer,
One, a kiss, is a prelude to far bigger things,
Ooh la la, you blush thinking about it,
How your wife tames your lust, like a skilled mahout.
And the other, prayer, is a chat with an invisible force,
The big man, you imagine donning a power suit,
And possessing beautiful hair, not needing a comb over.
While you wear that sticker on your forehead,
That you are proudly a tiny god-powered huckleberry,
Your heart like a combustion engine,
Needing frequent injections of petrol, and that
Is why you pray, down a lengthy crossroad,
Clutching a string of faith beads, hailing
God’s almighty shoulder, just like
How the Hannibal in you, jumped on an elephant
To ride over the august Alps, going to war,
With the donkey-riding Romans,
Just to feel for once, you’re on top of everything,
To feel the levity of being carried along,
Piggy backing on the elephantine,
That larger than life, God.

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