First, we lost our faith in the old man in the big chair,
and then we lost our faith in God.

We lost faith in the New York Yankees,
the military-industrial complex,
progress,
and the Electrolux microwave oven.

We lost faith in the absolution of the electric chair,
and the grace note of education.

We lost faith in Jimmy Swaggart and the Holy Ghost.
And Casper, the Friendly Ghost, went out the same door.

We lost our faith in Dr. Fauci, and the Bomb,
the Princeton Review,
and the milk of human kindness.

We lost faith in the earth’s ability
to be larger than we are.

We stopped reciting the Pledge of Allegiance,
stopped singing Staying Alive,
stopped believing there was really no business
like show business.

We lost faith in Captain Jack and Aquawoman,
and all their teams of lawyers.
We lost faith in men,
and then stopped believing her.
We don’t even believe us, anymore.

We lost faith in the historical record,
and tell no tales
without first consulting our lawyers.

We lost faith in clipping coupons,
and personal computers,
and redemption,
and cast all upon the heap.

We put aside childhood dreams,
at the appropriate time,
and grew too old, even, for wisdom.

We wandered out from once upon a time,
threw out the old unicorn bones,
and yet discovered no home
in the present moment.

We lost faith in conversation
as our opponents tore us to ribbons in the press;
we lost faith in conversion,
as we saw nothing in our opponents
worth turning to anything.

How very good we are
at scorching everything
that is no longer useful to us.

Still, I have heard it is in the desert
where faith is found.