Death of a Televangelist

They claimed children would be blessed and would impart wonders 
to others by touching the TV screen,

that the dead would be raised by being placed in a room

with a TV tuned to their programming, coming from signals 

high in the sky. (Surely the moon

witnessed their conspiracy to defraud viewers of their savings.)  

Even as the pope abandoned his papal palace,

they continued to broadcast their gospel of prosperity

on satellites worldwide.
They flew not on the wings of angels

but on the wings of private jets.

In a platinum pink bouffant wig (like a drag queen in a John Waters film),

the one sat beside the other.

They lived in mansions paid for with promises

they could never keep. The fault was not in the Gospel.

The fault was with them.

(God is not a genii in a bottle to be bought and sold.)

Paul Crouch is dead. But his body will not be resurrected

in front of a TV screen tuned to TBN.

He is caught in the eye of a needle.

There is no need to send any cash.