I really liked this.
I have a real affinity for poems that contrast teachings about God with the experience of God, and for poems about talking with God.
I mean, the middle section is just wonderful:
They say, Lord, piety is speaking to you,
but madness is hearing you
speak back. And under this,
like all good jokes lies
the truth: no one
in this equation seems to be listening
anyway. To you, to our own damned selves.
And I really like the dual interpretation of being dragged - or is it called - up the mountain.
In the "About This Poem" sidebar, Oladokun talks about creating this poem: "To say this poem basically jumped me in an alley would hardly be far from the truth." I'm so grateful for poems that insist on being, and on the poets who bear them.