Because we cannot believe in God
the Monster entirely but believe in God
the Monster a little, we’ll never be elected.
We own these souls. Won’t someone
fix them, uncover and preserve forever
patches of sidewalk sun to sit in?
In this game we walk
our characters forward
and have no control over
what rushes toward us.
Caravaggio painted these faces
in 1607 and 1608 and 1610 respectively
then disappeared into history. How pretty
his features in concealed self-portraits.
Maybe I’ll vote my subconscious this year,
Walking Scissors for mayor, I-Don’t-Want-
To-Kiss-a-Man-Yes-I-Do for senator.
I must tell you my guess about God.
If the flooding continues, the lions, who swim,
could cross the moat and climb the walls.