God circles the drain

goes down the tubes

lands in the gutter.

There is no other,

just One

and He’s flat out.

He gave all he got

for the booze and bread

He still loves sharing.

Friend of mine goes to school

comes back and tells me:

Look.  See this table?

It’s more space than matter.

What’s real is empty!

God’s a police chalk line

a browned  cigarette butt

a crumpled pop can—

whatever you find on the sidewalk

that proves you’re not alone

only empty.

Shouldn’t you love sharing

all you got

as it was given?

It all goes down—

that’s the divine direction.

It all goes down

until its out.

Amen.