the summer before I died

the summer before I died

I drove intentionally to the park.

It was crowded with people

doing things I’d never dream

of doing in public view.

I needed to find a less occupied

space in order to perform the function

which motivated me to go to the park

in the first place;

that was to lie on my back, look

up to the sky, and imagine God up there,

what It would be doing at this precise moment,

what type of mood It was in, and what Its plan was

for the rest of Its day.

(It’s a bright sky, intense, and I have only a moment

before I’m forced to look away)

but I repeated the process, and each time

I went back it became more and more spectacular.

soon, I was inside the sky and face-to-face with God.

holy shit! what’ve I gotten myself into?

me and God? holy shit!

It didn’t look like me.

It was not made in my image, nor

the image of anyone known to me.

I sensed Its omnipotent power, Its

fatal instinct for any living thing.

I asked: “why”?

God said: “because I can” with a voice

which thundered across the park’s activities

leaving everything and everyone dead in its wake,

except for me.

I drove home shivering with cold sweats only to find the cat

sitting on the formica counter next to the kitchen sink with its

all too familiar lunchtime expression.