God scans through the texts of Tolstoy For the secrets of the universe While the archangels at the table Dispute loudly, who is worse – Was it Van Gogh, or Picasso?
“I was far worse than both of them!” Says a self-righteous Mozart While Beethoven starts spitting. “Oh, don’t you two start!”
Warns a tipsy-stern Gabriel From behind a tall lager While Plato scrawls circles Like a half-a-dime auger.
“Silence!” God booms, Though his eyes are quivering With unshed tears, And Dickinson is shivering With the draft of early evening.
St. Peter is resting, Feet propped on a chair, Before returning to his post, And God lets them all stay there
By his side as he thumbs Through War and Peace’s last pages While the fire burns low And the storm outside rages.
Wilde laughs uproariously At the news while he cooks. “How was it?” Michael asks As God closes the book. God takes a moment Before his answer, confessing, “It wasn’t too bad, I think, But far too depressing.”
I’ve had too much wine in the mountains The clouds are getting in my eyes With your chin in your hand, looking at me so That’s why I get up, take the last sip at our supper Before the bells begin to toll
Pick me up, carry me to the bed Some cabin shouldn’t mean so much to me But I’m in my head about how long it’s been So long that I start to think about it now Moving back and forth, lost in thought
I've had too much wine in the mountains The frantic ramble begins And now, I'm a mess on the floor
Because there’s a church outside our door The bells toll and it’s all I can hear All I see when I look out the window And I told the priest we’d come back tomorrow I know what I said, but -
I change my mind about Gibraltar If we leave tomorrow, could we make it? I didn’t mean it, I don’t want to wait I was wrong and that ******* bell and We’ve got to leave, how many miles is it?
Grabbing the keys - ******* it, how many miles?
But you take me into your arms like a child Moving back and forth, lost in thought Smooth my shake and clear the clouds "This won't go on like this anymore" “I'll get it squared away”
Some other day in time I find myself full of wine in the mountains Wondering what would have happened if I heard the bells sooner.
My eyes are burnt. I don't pray to those few high school gods. I betray the teachings of my mother. I pull out of my pocket a pack of cigarettes. my silence is lost. I talk like antibiotics, but tell me can I still feast in an abnormal modesty?
Half remembered clichés dance along the pier. The divide between, Sweet salty land and unending depths. My talking dolphins sing a tune, Unsettling and threatening. Feed scraps from the dinner table by my curly haired gambler. I only see him at that old dollhouse, Cracked and weathered by the Sea. It insists on knocking on our red door and staying for supper. So it can beat us at throwing pennies in a cup Plunk...plunk...plunk
Had a dream and it made me really happy so I wrote a poem about it. It was a pretty weird dream truth be told.