“The Hole She-banged” (sic)
O Holie Spirit what a mess
Around this place, though none-the-less,
We purse-severe as best we can
Upon this cold and Baron land.O Hole-y Spirit come into
The hearts you’ve sent me near unto;
Your deepest wish is My command
Here in this God-forsaking land.So Father-God who’ve dreamed for us,
As we’ve spun ’round in whirling fuss;
That pinwheel whirls – it’s built that way;
Can’t stop the wind or whirl in play.But thank You Father for Your love;
Come to this planet from above,
Not to condemn our foolish ways,
But to bring peace-full loving days.So, help-me-God, as well as those
Around me; keep us on our toes
As Trump and all his ilk step up
To exercise their vacant stuff.For real-estate’s gone to his head,
Despite a shot which missed – instead
He’s carried on – brings people in
To raid the kitty-crap begins.Well, Holy Spirit, wow’s the Word
In which You’ve made Your way be heard,
Despite the din of clamored voice
And disparate desperate aching choice.O Holy Spirit yes-turd-day
Was some-thing else – what can we say
But “Bless him; bless them; have Your Way
In us – through us, this Christ-mess-day.Thanks Holy Spirit for This.
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