CRULLER

 

Because He doesn't always bother to distinguish

Levels of reality, when God is awake at 3 AM

He is likely to tun up in a reproduction of

Edward Hopper's Nighthawks demanding

Some coffee and a cruller. It does no good

For the counterman to protest that he

Is merely a copy of a figure in a painting

So he shrugs and, for the first time, turns the tap

On the coffee urn behind him and shouts to where

He hopes there is a kitchen and a cook

To see if there are any more crullers.

EMPLOYMENT

In those hard times God,
Not having two nickels
To rub together, took a job
With my Grandfather Max.
He did good work but
Nothing extraordinary, saving
Miracles for His off hours.
When things got better
He quit and resumed
Being God full-time.

ANGELS

 

The angels changing shifts use ladders

To go between Earth and Heaven. You'd think

They'd fly or at least use escalators but no;

They climb up and down ladders. Worse,

There are no ladders just for going up and

None for just going down so they must

Push past each other. When an angel going off-shift

Has news for his replacement, everyone on their ladder

Waits, commending themselves on how patiently they're waiting.

A PICTURE

 

After the execution of the beautiful Yang Guifei

The emperor's men, riding slowly, return to the palace.

One courtier pulls a wooden flute from his sleeve

And then puts it back. Silence is the music

Sent to accompany her on her way.

*

Frances Pray graduated in 1921
Nothing more is known of her
In fact, even this is not known of her
But was invented just now because
Her name appears in the text and
The editor likes footnotes. Really,
What sort of person likes footnotes?
The sort who pays research assistants
Scandalously little.

IN FOR REPAIRS

Joe, said God, as a fellow watchmaker
Why do you think this world of mine
Has never run quite right? I have,
Said Joe, a few ideas about that;
Make it 1925 and leave the world
In my father's shop; we'll take a look.

EX MACHINA

 

The god scheduled to descend from the heavens

Is ill. They pluck you from the audience and

Spend an hour or so deifying you.

Throwing a gaudy cloak across your shoulders

They wish you luck and  thrust you in the machine. 

It's only when you emerge on stage that you realize

You don't know the play. No matter. You cancel all debts 

Reveal that everyone is a long lost someone or other 

And marry to each other whoever looks unmarried.

Some of them look startled or upset but no matter;

We gods are known to be tricksy, untrusty folk.

ANIMA

I warned you or at least
I meant to and now
The bland little soul you tucked
Into a matchbox has been
Carried off by someone
Who just wanted a match
But now has your soul
In his pocket screaming
In its tiny voice in a language
He doesn't understand.