A Sinner's Parody Poem by Angela Bontle Ditumiso

We're all in need of God
To save us from something
Immersed
To hook and get us out of something, anything

But around here
Sundays are not for church
Sunday is for gospel music blaring out the stereo
Sweaty palms don't stick together

No, we get a hand around a bottle of ale
Time don't stand still, we sail
Drink ourselves into bubbles and black holes

Sermons comprise of people laughing,
A bottle opener relieving a bottle
A sip and a thank God
Followed by a promise to change

We are all tamed by something
For some, a lullaby means getting drunk
We play hide and seek with our problems
Intoxication is the only place we never get found

It's a sinner's parody
We create our own webs
To untangle ourselves from other webs

Funny we all know God's all-powerful but we're not ready for him yet
We're still enjoying our lives
We'll meet him one day
When we're ready, I guess