If I did ever meet God, where would that have been? What kind of a setting would that meeting take place in? Somewhere by the ocean, and perhaps he'd be holding a guitar singing a sad song while the waves crash and howl--so unruly a rebel. Would he smile as he sing his sad song, or would he be frowning in concentration while the light of the setting sun reflect off his eyelashes making them gold as i watch his profile? Perhaps he was that strange black man I once saw at the funfair at the jetty in L.A with that strange old radio and his rag puppet. He was trying to make his puppet dance to a hip hop tune with little success. It flopped badly and looked clumsy but I had laughed such magic. Or even my sister when she was telling me about a woman with a disfigured face at MACY's shopping, wondering if it was fire or courage the lady wore with bravery everyday and she had shone under that overcast sky heavy with silence as the cars whir past. God, was that you on youtube the other day calling yourself Jerry Jeff Walker and singing Mr Bojangles once in 1978 and then again in 1980something first with such gentleness and ease and then how you carried age and wearied eyes yet still sound so so beautiful? Were you that glowing cup on stage?
Did you talk to me once that homeless woman with silver hair I thought so angelic with the flashing lights from Old Navy making them glow and pulse with such energy and anger at injustices? Did you ever call yourself Matthew and make me cry with such gentleness and understanding I thought I finally shook hands with my reflection and broke the glass in mirrors. Were you that book I happen to pick up at the library and thinking you a bore I left behind randomly for someone else to pick up and find truth?
I know, you were a woman in childhood saved my foot when it got stuck and cried and panicked while trains doors were beeping to close. I still remember you. Am thankful even though I have not used them to dance with grace, I stomp on it in frustration all the time. Your name is also mistake, regret, anger and grief how we hate and curse you all the while forgetting. You are so forgetful and careless I thought you must have temporary blindness occasionally rarely often. If those were not you and I have yet to meet you I hope you to be a void a nothingness, no music, no blackness, no cycle. Most importantly not


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