When God called, I answered,
though I didn’t hear him ringing at first.
It sounded like sand in my ears, or pavement,
stone streets gone rogue
wetting my dreams with concrete.
But I answered the next day
gave him my back
said, “Strap those wings on tight.
I’m ready to fly.
Eve’s fruit was underrated.
Feed that apple to me twice.”
God obliged, said “Your flight to Eden is booked.
Show up a day late, in style.”
Tonight, the moon hangs heavy
a weight around my waist
dragging me down through the slick slog of modern mundanity
but when the sun comes up tomorrow
By the time the moon opens her one white eye again
I’ll be in another world
licking electric lips
dancing with the light.
The night is heavy.
God, wait for me.
I’ll probably be drunk
for an encounter of this magnitude.
If it pleases you, adopt an attitude of compassion.
Laissez-faire seems fair.
I haven’t pedicured my toes in months.
The soles of my shoes are shot.
I threw the dice twice, bought a ticket to your promised land.
Take my hand.
I’ll be waiting.
Like the fabled City of God,
I’ll be awake from dawn to dawn.
I’ll host 777 ragers.
I’ll never sleep again.