ANGELS

A hard winter and it seemed on every corner

An angel stood with ragged wings outspread

And a tin can that she'd rattle at you. Sometimes

There'd be a cardboard sign in colored marker

Saying "Aseity" or "Grace" or "Immanence"

Or some other one of the Attributes of God

(Me, I'd not have thought "Incomprehensibility"

Was anything to boast about. I lack Aseitiousness

And have rarely been associated with Grace;

Nor am I usually Immanent, Simple or Righteous but,

By God, I have been Incomprehensible since I was six.)

The Angel of green and purple Impeccability

Always looked particularly depressed. Occasionally

I'd put a dime in her can; she looked hungry.