I am walking in the park
After a night of empty talk -
Looking for something beautiful,
I find myself reaching down
Taking from my pocket a piece of gum.

Now, I am actually chewing God -
I’ve taken him from the trees,
I’ve stripped him from the fields,
And I haven’t even tried
To look for him in town -
Why bother?
I've got him in my mouth.

Compact and easy to manage,
At worst he might get stuck
To the outside of my lips:
So what?
It's a small price to pay,
For the luxury of compacting all divinity
Into a single pointless blob.

Once, he breathed life into the world,
Now he breathes minty freshness
Up my nostrils:
What's the difference?
He was, at first, the nonsense of the universe;
Now he is the nonsense
That I ****** with my tongue,
For no particular reason -
Same thing.

I often imagine a little face
On his lumpy plastic body,
Whining petulantly
As I chew him with irrational force -
And I find this very funny!
But then I think:

Perhaps he does not mind
How hard I squeeze,
Because really he is sad
That his real home is, you know,
Everywhere,
And instead he's getting chewed,
Whilst I’m laughing at a piece of goo,
When I should be laughing at the world.

Now I'm not laughing
At my gum anymore.

Instead,
I've cast him out,
To this open graveyard on the floor -

And his epitaph reads:
'I was only ever paste'
And he becomes another God
Who I have no desire to taste.