God Be Merciful to Me,
a Re-Publican

I was devoutly praying in the
First Synagogue of Reagan, Scientist,
"God, I thank thee, that I am not as
the tree-hugging, pro-choice, welfare-leeches."

When a digitized voice came from heaven
in the high fidelity stentorian tones of
St. John of the Cross, proclaiming,
"Those with spiritual pride
come to have satisfaction with themselves
and condemn others in their heart . . ."
But the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
bellowed out the moralistic catechism
of my spiritual channeling guide,
Ayn Rand,
"Thou shalt have
no other God before thee,
but thy Self."

Thus succored, I buckled on my purple
Ralph Lauren sweatshirt, made in China,
with the hand-embroidered monogram:
that I had fought and bled to win in the
Advanced Assertiveness Workshop
at Esalen,

Got on my cloned, improved camel and
galloped through needle's-eye.com
through caverns measureless to man,
excavating for a uranium mine,
ignored the rapacious land-
developer's beam in my eye
while beholding the mote
in Ralph Nader's eyeball,
and swallowed my Camel cigarette
while straining at a gnat on
Bob Kerrey's Bronze Star,
Cha Cha Cha.