There are Polymarket ads in fortune cookies.
There are pop-ups in our prayers.
There are paywalls on the monasteries,
and the monks are millionaires.
Well little Johnny’s gone to war.
He joined the McMarines.
The Iranians must be liberated
and blown to smithereens.
Light a candle in the chapel, John,
and pray to Western God,
and listen to the homily
the preacher wrote with Claude.
“Oh Western God, please guide our drones,”
the pious Johnny prayed.
“That we may safely bomb their schools
and turn their children gray.”
The candle disappeared from sight
a minute into Johnny’s prayer,
and was replaced with hologram ads
for DraftKings and Wayfair.
Johnny placed his hand upon his heart
with reverence and love
and worshipped the blood-soaked, hungry god
in the great big bank above.
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