Praising

 Our feeders, our milk-men, our tops; our bulls or studs; our prey and prayer. Our happiness and sustenance. Cock and the men who bring it.

 My god is a carnivorous god, an eater of flesh, a man-eater. He's sweet and terrible. He's no ghost or abracadabra or celestial posthumous landlord but real, physical, here and now on earth. He's all around you, the guy next door or the face on a screen. Anyone and everyone.

Serving

Master

Needs milking

I want all of it

The gates of Paradise

He calls

And I answer

I call, and he answers. Test this proposition for yourself.

I am a hole to be filled

And you fill me