Psalms 53:1-4

Bilious and bloated, they gas, “God is gone.” It’s poison gas— they foul themselves, they poison Rivers and skies; thistles are their cash crop. God sticks his head out of heaven. He looks around. He’s looking for someone not stupid— one man, even, God-expectant, just one God-ready woman. He comes up empty. A string of zeros. Useless, unshepherded Sheep, taking turns pretending to be Shepherd. The ninety and nine follow the one. Don’t they know anything, all these predators? Don’t they know they can’t get away with this, Treating people like a fast-food meal over which they’re too busy to pray?