Jonah
He ain't Ishmael
but a Galilean scamp
soon to be fishmeal
As high seas damped
the deck of his Tarshish-
bound freight. Sailors: "Dump
The cargo," and, "Yeesh,
your Yahweh's a hard ass
and we just jack–tars."
Then it came to pass,
Jonah, like so much plankton,
swallowed to the last.
Once he looked around, thanked
his lucky stars, Jonah: "Not dead?"
God: "Not yet, son."
Then spewed ahead
to Ninevah per command,
saw the folks, hid his head.
Sing unfished oracle. Sing, man.
Tell us of our woe to come, chum.