Jim Jones

was a star.

No Little Richard, he . . .

no wannabe white nights

of James Browns . . .

away with your Elvises

your Supremes;

lightweight crooners all:

mere Marilyn Mansons.

But Reverend Jones

played the REAL funk,

the TRUE Soul music.

There is earth,

there is wind,

and sometimes

fire.

But Jonestown LIVE—

that was a show, brothers and sisters.

When Reverend Jones was at the mike

it was serious as hell.

(Father knows best.)

same old lies / same old poison / spiritual wickedness / lost souls recycled for hell
communes / community / communism

(heard all this shit before):

strident calls for Social Justice / the Social Gospel / Socialist Delusion

Father knows how it ends.

Drink up, brothers and sisters:

it’s closing time.