worlds --- 'You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter. When
I tell you a cat must have three different names' T.S. Eliot
‘An omen for me?’ asked the seeker
‘Go read Harry Potter’ said God
‘Show me the way’ said the traveller
‘A rosebud’s your guidebook’ said God
‘Watch for tsunamis’ aid God
‘Build me a house’ asked the mother
‘Go knock holes in walls?’ said her God
‘but I need a model’ said father
‘Mary’ said God
‘Hold me in faith?’ asked the preacher
‘Big decision’ said God
‘Guide my two feet’ said the student
‘Get lost’ said God
‘How do I balance?’ asked judge
‘Tsunamis’ said God
‘Light up the path!’ said the prophet
‘Step forward’ said God.
Rainfall in the winter
hits a rooftop, grey,
- a momentary treasure
clattering crazy slate
it’s running to the centre
of wells inside the garden
glassy, level, cold
until a human grasps at
meniscus, aims to cup
swigging for their pleasure
but when the pleasure’s ended
and hands have wiped a mouth,
how far that person gazes
to east, west, north and south,
and seeking purer water.
when they wet my head,
I never quite got over it;
water in my eyes, stinging,
and all that cooing, praying, singing
but (worse) the name they hung on me!
I’ve carried that old monica
from here to Timbuktu.
They didn’t even call me ‘Peggy Sue’,
‘Cecilia’ or ‘Suzanne’
like in all my favourite pop songs.
I wonder whether
(if they’d stuck me with a different handle)
my life would’ve had more scandal,
been suitably re-formed ---- or better?