By: Claire Scott

the other day wearing
a heavy overcoat
tall rubber boots
a plaid scarf wrapping
his heavenly neck
coughing, his voice nasal from
scotch and cigarettes
looking slightly stout
looking slightly bent
stubble on his divine cheeks
occasional nose picking
a bit grouchy, complaints of
stuck bowels, arthritic knees

he didn’t stay long
didn’t talk much
had a glass of brandy
then shambled down the
street looking distracted
or perhaps lost

I prefer the god of my mind
the nebulous god dwelling
in misty clouds, white beard,
his finger reaching to touch
Adam of his creation
imparting the spark of life
a flawless god of no appetite
no aging no mood swings
simply counting the hairs
on the heads of his children
for all eternity

listen
you can hear him