you set the table for god
he shows up early,
spits in the soup and says,
“fuck the preamble
give me everything now!"
you kick him out
you tell him never to return

seven years later
you set the table for god
he arrives with flowers
meticulously dressed
mocking your every move
with his measured politeness
and with the terrible secrets about you
that he doesn't utter
or overtly indicate that he knows
his poker face from heaven
is a joker from hell
never again

seven years later
you set the table for god
he's a no show
your house full of uncooked food
is a whore's lair
and a party for one
the knock at the red door
is the asian delivery boy

seven years later
you make a date with god on the phone
you leave a message
you say,
"I'll meet you
at the crossroad
i’ll bring no ride home
only One of us
will be left standing”

Before we met
You completed me
But then everything
Went to pieces
When you went ahead
And introduced yourself
Why can’t everything
Be as it was
When you and I
Were inseparable?
Why can’t we leave off
Where we picked up
Back in the day?

Friend, we've spent our life scrambling
To get to the bottom of a box
Searching for some chintzy prize
Forgetting all along
That we came here for the Cracker Jacks

Shhh!
Maybe no one else has noticed yet
The huge sliding chunks
Of the 1970s, 80s, 90s and 2000s
That are jarring loose
All around you
The center
The one you imagined was there
Could not hold
There's probably still time though
Before anyone else sees
For you to apply
Yet another round
Of plaster fixatives
If you hurry

Stop

Let it come apart
Let everything that you believed
To be keeping out your pain
Fall
Because that isn't
Any slouching rough beast
On the other side
Of the cracking wall
It's a very lonely child
Who only wants to meet you

God is The Quiet One
Who sits alone
Unpopular
Silent
Amidst the din
Of an unwitting class
She is the One we continually overlook
But who never holds it against us

People Are Waiting For The Messiah
Bless their hearts
She is not coming
Because She is already Here
At the Overlook Hotel
Where She has always been
Biding Her time
Awaiting the return
Of Your outward facing gaze

Dear exhausted friend
You have been painstakingly piling straws
Onto the back of a spineless camel
For a long time
The tipping point was reached
The day you were born
You just weren't aware of it
Rest now
Have a cream soda

i am not enlightened because i choose pretzels over it
i am not enlightened because i can hear the falconer but i don't feel like a falcon so i ignore him
i am not enlightened because why else would i still be masturbating as a form of procrastination?
i am not enlightened because it's never not July 3rd
i am not enlightened because i am still finishing my masterpiece which i'm sculpting out of boredom and saliva
i am not enlightened because i cannot always manifest parking spots
i am not enlightened because Grace married the quarterback
i am not enlightened because i still wanna be
i am not enlightened because i am not enlightened
i am not enlightened because if i were enlightened i'd know how to end this poem

If you knew how much
You are being helped
At this very moment
And by how many
You would be overwhelmed
With a Gratitude
So ferocious
That it might
Prematurely
Destroy you
This is why
It Must Be Kept Secret

God Loves
All Your First Takes
Have you noticed
that She never reshoots
any of your scenes?
It's all a print
And you're a smash

God was unable to express Love
Because in His infiniteness 
There was no room to move
Encaged as He was
In His eternal dimensionlessness   

This encagement
For what later came to be conceptualized
As countless eons
Somehow
Produced a Longing in God
An unimaginably acute pain
That created an opening
Which burst outward
From a Center  

This opening revealed everything 
That God was unable to express
Encaged as He was
In His immaculate
All pervading no placeness

In other words
So great
Was God's Longing
To express Love
That He sacrificed His dreams for it
Jettisoning them
In order that they
Cut loose for a time
From the protective eye
Of His immediate view
Could undertake an expression
The form of which 
God Himself 
Can never know

What the world needs
Now
Is for you to see
That you have already painted
A masterpiece
We, the world,
Are not interested right now
In the glorious corrections
That you are destined
To eventually make
What we the world
Need
Now
Is a masterpiece
Is a Permission Slip
To rest
In the aspect of Ourself
That has never
Needed to be fixed

You have only a few months left
Before The Fall
When nothing in particular
Will sweep over your world
Like a raging torrent
Of silent invisible locusts
After which you will Awaken
To the idea of an echo
Of trumpet notes trailing off
into an imagined distance
Amidst the ruins
Of a half-remembered apocalypse
That never Really took place

(this poem was written on June 6, 2016)

You think you're smart?
You're an embarrassment
You bore the pants off of animals and plants
Even inanimate objects find you annoying
You should feel much more guilty than you do
But you don't
Because you're an idiot
You think I'm kidding?
You think this is some sort of poem?
Don't crack a smile
You imbecile
Instead
Try figuring out why you are
Right now
Overlooking the fact
That none of these words
Or anything else for that matter
Has any meaning
Except the one
You
Give to it

You are totally safe
In fact
You Are Safety Itself
It is only your searches for safety
In places outside Yourself
Places that do not even Really exist
Which have distanced you
From the One
Who can never be harmed

Notice
That though the time
Is always changing
The Now
From which you check it
Is always the same

You're no body 'til you're born
Then you're some body