In case you haven’t heard, Saturday (according to a newly released YouTube video) is supposed to be the date of “the Rapture.” Resident Poet, Joe Long, has a few words of caution . . .
‘Tis the night ere the Rapture, says some guy named Meade—
It’s numerologically guaranteed!
But me in my cap, Ma in her slippers soft,
We do not anticipate going aloft.
Once, we bought bottled water (before “Y2K”);
Somehow we survived Mayan Apocalypse day—
Yes, we made it through those and indeed, several more,
Including a deadline proclaimed by Al Gore.
And our pastor reminds us, his countenance dour:
“Our Good Lord Himself said ‘No man knows the hour’.”
Of course, we’ve know that quote since childhood—although
It’s apparently news to, say, “Slate“, or “Huffpo.”
So the media is gleefully giving us grief,
‘Bout what they’re misconstruing as “Christian belief.”
The real End Times hysterics, are those convinced that
The Mark of the Beast is…a red baseball hat.
It’s hard not to feel for the poor darlings, though.
After all, they saw their savior come—and then go,
And the miracles wrought by his phone and his pen
Are undone. No wonder they feel “Left Behind”, then.
I suspect they wish we WOULD sail into the sky,
But in vain do they hope, and in vain prophesy…
I see my kids nestled in bed and I smile.
Sorry, folks; but I think we’ll be here quite a while.