God
by Amanda Hempel


In my office job I type all day long.
Every time I try for god, I get dog instead.
This is how I imagine any god that might be:
snoring lightly, running through the space
of his own dreamed universe,
then rising out of it suddenly, yawning,
blinking one eye at a time at this bleaker world,
wondering what happened to all the beautiful rabbits.






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