1
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.
2
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.
3
He comes up empty. A string of zeros. Useless, unshepherded Sheep, taking turns pretending to be Shepherd. The ninety and nine follow the one.
4
Don't they know anything, all these impostors? 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?
5
Night is coming for them, and nightmare - a nightmare they'll never wake up from. God will make hash of these squatters, send them packing for good.