We made a god that teaches only want.
It opened its mouth; wasps buzzed forth,
we basked in its words in unthinking reverentia -
sermons, the words that made us realize that we
were broken men - that with enough money,
we could buy the trappings to hide our paper souls.
Interesting to note the deliberate non-capitalization of god. It sets the tone for the rest of the poem; a non-divine entity taking up the mantle of god by 'our' deliberate decision, accidentally corrupting our morals. I love the idea behind paper souls as well. I really wish I could nominate this piece as well.