Do Centrelink payments appeal to me, the God Ouranos?: A poem 

I have always rejected all the worldly billions 

because I was brave and free like a pack of stallions 

I didn’t sacrifice and suffer so much for your money 

Only love, loyalty and duty were my honey 

What does Ouranos want in return from power-hungry men? 

Did He not die countless deaths over time to save them? 

He only adjudicated between devil and deep sea 

so that honest souls wouldn’t be trapped in the melee 

God always made himself vulnerable to their treachery 

Humble and sublime; the wicked capitalised on His humility 

The patience of selfless death was His unshouted victory 

Your fruit of misbegotten power is only eternal poverty 

Does me, God, want the meagre Centrelink payment? 

Maybe it’s just part of my humble raiment 

Of course, even God, who sublimates Himself, needs to survive 

Does he not know that the opportunism and treachery of Saint Paul, from it, arrives? 

Though I have never, heretofore, made any major claims, 

I am the just God Ouranos, who was rendered lame and maimed