The Portrait of God as an Artist.
‘And god called the dry land earth’
there is a way god calls me in my sleep
like sea whispering to fishermen during a storm
a ferry pushes on my eyeball
I hide when my shores overflow
there is a way I want to love the beyond
like sand conjuring at sea
or crab-claws trapped around my toe.
there are ways I wish to call the sky a rebellion
the way they turn shores to quicksand
and my legs look for ground in foam
whatever is planted by the lord would stand firm
a sand castle? too much wishes for a grainy prince
watch how the stars fall like rain at night
so I can touch them, my eye is a whole view
with a brown moon begging for day
it doesn’t matter how water gets to the earth
but I guess my eyes beat the clouds to that.
see me as the firmament— & god said,
“let there be a dome to divide the water
& to keep it in two separate places”, one in my eyes.