Saturday, November 5, 2016

I Suppose

I Suppose
(to Kyree) 

I picture God,
if It exists, as this:
a prison warden from
the ancient realm of Ethiopia, 

with such severe myopia he never knew
exactly who was who. "It" (de-gendered
single pronoun, offered humbly to suggest
a stand-in neutral moniker for “God")

would rid Itself of clothes each day, especially
ensuring It had left Its left foot verily unshod.
Then It would stick Its left leg out – agleam
from thigh to calf to shin to knee to sole –

presenting It as an occasion to receive
the grateful homage from some random
soul’s warm lips upon the farthest lowest 
reach of It: his left foot’s five sweet tips.

It would snap Its fingers
at whatever Soul was near
to bend down then to kiss them. 
Soul invariably shuddered: “Kiss them?”

“Kiss them!” It would regally repeat,
directing Soul's nose down incontrovertibly 
to where It ended: ”Those!” 
Soul would kneel to kiss Its toes.

So that’s what God is, I suppose.


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