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The games God plays

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

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 do not 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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