dear god i need an idea god
what art can be formed of a heart
all tired and a mind mired
in ancient harmony gone off key
dear god i would if i could
speak word with you and work us through
to the other side where wisdom ‘bides
and innocence curls up safe and sound

dear god i need a web yes god
an art we weave upon a heart
that spans your holy lands
and my homely narrow style
dear god i never hear from god
i always spill my guts upon what
would rather not be splattered on
for art dies in jumbled cries
for love one can’t win normal-wise

So then you decide to once and for all hash it out
a hurt in belly chest shoulders head and being, bleeding pain
all day long every day, fighting that wound in the pit of gut
no one wants to hear
don’t want to say anyway
but one chokes on stuffed-up lonely

and then I remember
this is not even the real problem
this is just icing on the edge
icing shaped like that star-faced white-wedged tube
and winding now around the tip-top of a round party cake

the real problem
is the evil out there
the one that rules the world
that takes control,
declares itself king and stomps down anything
that would dare to disagree
no matter how beautifully
for the truth is beautiful
and power for the sake of power is
as ugly as it is boring as it is
evil

dear god i ask you to be fair with me
and to share with me the light that leads
our ships at sea to harbors safe and clean
dear god i ask you to tell me what to do
because all i find in my melon-mind’s a zoo
of i me me mine
Though I’ve heard
of Thou Thee Thine
and I wish to go beyond the narrow confines
of another poem
about and for
moi

maybe fair’s not the right word, maybe generous is better there