Newbies Won’t Work
Claire Scott

O Lord why do you send squeaking gods
with smooth faces and unchanged voices

more interested in playing Frisbee with haloes
and racing on newly sprouted wings
than tending to sledge of disaster

Where are your first string gods
the seasoned ones with millennia of practice

have you sent them to more promising places,
countries with bulging coffers and people
who leave piles of cash in collection plates

I can tell you Lord your newbies are overmatched
no idea how to handle a white man

’s knee on a black man’s neck
or a woman seeking asylum, ripped dress,
swollen belly, ropey scars on her back

Your lambs are roasting each other
on spits, in spite, despite the fact

that we are all your children, Lord please
send your finest gods before it is too late
to stop the gunshots at night

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