i once saw god standing by
a cotton field in bakersfield.
he was playing a mandolin and he
looked a little like woody guthrie.
next i encountered the deity in a
roadside bar in tucumcari.
he was a black-braided indian woman smiling
around a beer bottle to the music of
pool balls and a juke box set on high.
once god approached me in the hall
of a flophouse in downtown memphis.
i'd stripped the wallpaper from the walls
& ripped down the single cord light swinging on it.
god backed off when i waved my owlhead .32
in his face as i made my getaway before the cops arrived.
i haven't seen god in a long time &
don't expect to until the last time i see him.
i expect he'll point at me & say hey
you're that asshole got the drop on me with the owlhead
or shined me on by that cotton field!
i'll say hell god, shit happens.
maybe we'll have a beer or shoot a game of pool.
or play bluegrass on his mandolin
while the angels dance around us &
the sky booms with thunder.
maybe he'll put me back on the elevator
smile & say hey jazz,
shit happens man.
drop back by sometimes
just don't wear out your welcome.