Praise the Lord

by Paul Connell

 

Let there be life, you said
and scarcely having drawn breath
we spend our time avoiding death
for this much thanks.

Let there be light you said
and recoiling from the fearsome spark
we find we are afraid of dark
for this much thanks.

Let there be sex, you said
and we looked and saw that it was good
then your lot tells us "stop, that's rude."
for this much thanks.

And kicked out of a shitty ark
into a damp safari park
to find that we’re each other’s lunch
a marvellous bounty.
Thanks a bunch.