Somatic Deities

By Elsa Wilson

Little idols sold with cigarettes and tea

If I were one of them I’d be a little angry

Candles lit for sacred prayers

Divinity for certainty

But did you know that plastic melts?

You tell yourself you need a god

You say you need someone to understand

But when you make your god with your own hands

Could it be some of your neediness

Gets poured into the mold with the dirty gold?

But other gods have diamond eyes

And there are more expensive tries

And then you start to realize

Religion’s gotten so superficialized

Then you feel like you’re back in school

Pretending, trying to be cool

But there’s always something showing through

And is it sacrilegious to use glue?

Some pray facing the other way

Elsa Wilson has always wanted to be in the musical Cats, but now she is thinking that something along the lines of film critic/photo journalist might be a more realistic goal. She came all the way from Anchorage, Alaska to major in MCA. Originally from Tallahassee, Florida, she has always wanted to live in New York City since middle school. She has a monkey named Green George.