Poem-A-Day: Day 296

God’s Curious Wandering

Curiously walking on the green grass
and shouting obscenities towards the sky;
damning the stars for not being visible,
damning the earth for spinning,
damning the collapse again.
There’s no devil, only god when he’s drunk,
and he loves to walk among the men
created in his image,
and the woman, an image of lust
and heaving bliss; rolling clouds.
Dripping sweat at the edge of the day
and looking down from the cliff into the darkness,
hoping that the world has ended,
hoping that things have been the mirror,
hoping that the mirror has been a dream.