Today
I did something very strange.
In a fit of sheer, grasping desperation
I lifted my hands up,
pressed my dry palms together towards the
ceiling
fraught with tiny holes from pushpins
and amongst the noise of the building,
the elated shrieks and mottled
noise of various conversations
I began to whisper in hushed tones
to a god or God
who may-or-may-not exist.
I may-or-may-not have said “fuck”
but I didn’t apologize to him or Him.
I said dear god it’s been a while but
right now I really need something
and I can’t help myself anymore.
And sometimes I can’t catch my breath,
it only gets to the precipice of my throat
but doesn’t fall off the cliff into my lungs,
and sometimes when it gets really quiet
in the room there’s this high-pitched ringing
and it makes my ears and brain feel
a little bit lonely.
Also sometimes,
I don’t know if it’s just me,
but when I’m watching people walk along
and like, animals and such,
scurrying,
I’m struck by this overwhelming
monotony of life;
we may have friends but why
we may love each other
and hate each other
and hold hands with each other
and go out
but why.
And I thought
if you’re or You’re up there
why don’t we
float in the air
and feast on clouds
and why do we have worries
and why do the planets orbit
the sun in ellipses and not perfect circles?
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Submission Name: god or God
