“Holy” like a donut, “Holy” like Swiss Cheese,
“Holy” like creationists’ own brand of expertise
“Holy” like a leper with some flesh-eating disease,
“Holy” like My Saviour’s feet, beneath his holy knees.

“Holy” like a colander, or like a piercéd ear,
“Holy” like a fishnet blouse, that’s so much more than sheer
“Holy” like a movie’s plot (The Bible’s, too, I fear)
“Holy” like My Saviour’s side, through which was thrust a spear.

“Holy” like a lake’s thin ice, a helpful signal warns
“Holy” like a matador who did not dodge the horns
“Holy” like John Dillinger, whom everybody scorns
“Holy” like My Saviour’s brow, beneath a crown of thorns.

“Holy” like a bagel, or like a leaky pail
“Holy” like security protecting your e-mail
“Holy” like my engine block, which leaves an oily trail
“Holy” like religion, just a grown-up fairy tale.

As with today’s earlier post, a bit of context.