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The games God plays

Thursday, 23 October 2008

A stippled line of birds concertinas 
across the sky, an enormous person, 
dressed in fluffy clothes, reclines against 
Table Mountain then becomes a duck
someone's thrown a horde of zinc plates onto 
the ocean's face, the glare's unbearable
a massive black head pops through the skin
takes a nibble of the air, the sun lolls 
ever closer to Robyn Island as 
if we don't know it never sleeps
the black head implodes on itself 
disappears as if though it never was
and there, a plume of misty water appears.
I'm waiting for the green flash I never 
seem to see, clouds gather on the 
horizon like a charging army 
on a dusty battle field, which makes me think 
that God is running across the universe
and if later on tonight I should happen 
to see a shooting star
I'll know, that God was just playing marbles

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