Jehovah’s Witnesses

Having been inspired to great artistic heights by Mormons and Scientologists, I was going to pick on Jehovah’s Witnesses next.  In my old house they used to visit me and resist my attempts to convert them to something else on a regular basis.  I have been in my new house a year and they have not visited at all.  I suspect this is because there is a big hill you have to climb up to get to me (yes, cos I spend my time meditating on top of a mountain), and the local Witnesses round here might be a bit lazy.  So my poem was going to have lines like

Hey Jehovah

why don’t your witnesses like to climb over

the hill and visit any more

I never seem them

they don’t call

they don’t tuck the WatchTower

under my door

And then there was going to be something about how I hope that he is a vengeful god, because his Witnesses were ignoring me.

Then I came home the other day and the alleged Mrs Chip, if there should be such a person (I don’t think there is for this persona), had placed The Watch Tower and Awake on my desk.  Bugger!  They had been!  That spoiled everything.  Curses!  Foiled again!  I am struck into appropriate politeness, and it is for the best.

I like the monster Jehovah’s Witness in Ghost Story by Peter Straub.  The bit about Dr Rabbitfoot.  He was scary.

I hope none of this sounds rude, I have to write about something.  (Or do I?)

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