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.