The restaurant had been loud and bright.
All that noise rang in my head, even now.
I stood on the side of the road, pulled over,
looking out on the city lights in the valley.
Twinkling and distant, as I was God looking
down on the stars from the dark halls of heaven,
from the cold winter stillness of his throne room.
The hoodie, navy blue and emblazoned with an
actresses’ face, barely kept me warm in the wind.
The actress was an icon and an angel in the night.
I sought sublimity in her beauty, grace in her acts
of kindness, and hope in that she was like me;
one of God’s unwanted children, one all the good people
wanted swept away in a blood tide at the end of the world.
Up here in the hills, city lights below, the stars above,
my too long hair whipped about by a cold winter wind,
I wonder if the falling stars are angels coming to fight,
or fallen ones coming down to make sure it all fucking burns.
I wonder if I can find any peace anywhere else, any other place,
in this world that is ending not in God’s judgment, but in our own
nasty, petty cruelty, and blind, ravenous greed, and God just watching.
Faith can’t change the human heart, everyone acts all the same here.