A Loving God
Recently received revelation reveals
that a loving God indeed exists,
but, alas, It did not make you in its image
nor does It love you, but instead looks
like a gloriously brilliant ornament
on a Christmas tree, as the creatures,
if you can call them that, viruses,
look like, being God’s real favorites
and ergo look like It (yes, it’s hard
not to say Him out of habit), though
if It loves each one, or hosts of them,
or just sub-microbial protean energy
like a metaphysical idea, who can say?--
because it’s still true these first causes
of second causes are beyond us,
and really none of our business anymore
now it’s cleared up that we’re here
as virus chow, as is all the phenomena
we assumed was here just for us to consume
during all that time we could get burned up
in town squares for speculating
about atoms or asking too many questions
about God’s love while picking our kids’
bodies out of earthquake rubble, and,
for that matter, I wouldn’t share
this recent info while you block aisles
chatting in the supermarket, stocking up
for the quarantine, because nothing
still angers folks more personally
than to be told nothing’s personal.
that a loving God indeed exists,
but, alas, It did not make you in its image
nor does It love you, but instead looks
like a gloriously brilliant ornament
on a Christmas tree, as the creatures,
if you can call them that, viruses,
look like, being God’s real favorites
and ergo look like It (yes, it’s hard
not to say Him out of habit), though
if It loves each one, or hosts of them,
or just sub-microbial protean energy
like a metaphysical idea, who can say?--
because it’s still true these first causes
of second causes are beyond us,
and really none of our business anymore
now it’s cleared up that we’re here
as virus chow, as is all the phenomena
we assumed was here just for us to consume
during all that time we could get burned up
in town squares for speculating
about atoms or asking too many questions
about God’s love while picking our kids’
bodies out of earthquake rubble, and,
for that matter, I wouldn’t share
this recent info while you block aisles
chatting in the supermarket, stocking up
for the quarantine, because nothing
still angers folks more personally
than to be told nothing’s personal.
