Random Prompt #8

[busker]

Mormon Cricketers

In Salt Lake City
where summer's a piti-
less blaze, the inside of a sedan
that's been in the sun too long, Armageddon
came. For the crickets. Began Psalter Mitty,
binder of books. For there's a Jesus
to each species. Rhesus
monkeys, arachnids, dinosaurmorphs, megalodons,
and each has its own Book of Revelation
hooted or chirped in the desolation
of American Judea, from Iraq to Korea...

'Enough of that, show us titty!'
exclaimed Psalter's patrons, growing restless,
threatening to leave his Boob Launch Party guest-less.

For a typo to leave the brotherhood breastless
was unheard of in regional USA
where you're allowed to be witty
on any topic under the sun
(save for the god given right to a gun,
for on that topic do blood rivers run,
and patriots form a new SA,
but otherwise, you're free
to pee on every tradition,
even a first edition
of Homer's Illiad
in regional, small town USA).

In all this, I forgot to tell you all the fun
stories about Mormon cricketers:
the players, umpires, bastard union picketers,
sometimes all three
inspired by the trinity
being one.