Dot Coms

Prophetic dot coms
All the same, a slight
Change, a slight rearrange,
Commas and full stops,
And new question makes
A mark, a slight, a shift,
Jubilee is currency for
It to makes sense, 50 days
Did a prophet lay barren,
Blow the siren,
It seems its just about blessing,
And clarity, we ask for prosperity,
We lack the clarity, the word does
Not stand as a backbone and a microphone,
Sound it God, sound it in me—declare a fast,
My porch is far, my torch is tar and feather
And everything that does scatter,
Lost prophets cry out to me,
Send me God, send me to Nineveh,
Where nirvana is chased, where
Men are ravaging beasts and cannot
Take it anymore—have mercy on the
World

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