Over his holy Bluetooth headset our Uber driver declares he
recently saw the left side of god’s face and I can’t laugh for long
because who am I kidding when You turn
and laugh with Your teeth and Your sweet-talkingtongue You
are as real as prophetic stone cradled down from the
mountain top
I’m the canine snoring belly-up in your bed bracing for
nothing but in Your arms with my hand resting on your
collarbone in sleep I know I am not the other man from the
other backseat I am something different something I am scared
of at times and do not
always have a name for But You You go fishing for the syllables
with me You hold the cold slippery creature in Your palm
and whisper
to it untilit turns over