Kindred Tricks

God, a pinkish Shmoo, devises form
from formlessness, investigates Its own
amorphous state for yearnings so diffuse
and loose they can be readily amassed –
persuaded to produce – disseminate into –
whatever fantasy the Shmoo decides
it needs to conjure up. Often cravings will

erupt for scaffolding and flesh – skeleton
and muscle, skin and body-hair and beard
and sexual appurtenances, processes
of which, though weird, are fascinating for
the alien behavior and the unaccustomed
views the Shmoos (God’s not the only one),

vicariously, through their creatures, choose
to muse upon. Out of brownness leaking
weakly out of blackness, and a spill
of ill-assorted hues, today Our Shmoo
made manifest from all the loopy sprawl of Its
eternally imaginative span, a naked hairy
yellow muscular gay man whom It sent

wandering like some lost Giotto saint into
the land without a clue. Our particulars
may differ (maybe you’re not yellow, naked,
hairy, male or gay or muscular), but
I would bet this still suggests some kindred
tricks behind the genesis of me and you.







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