It was in the early years of this century, 2002 or so, and I went out for an early morning run. The sun wasn't up, but the moon was gorgeous. I started thinking about how we think that humans are the center of the universe, but as of now, there seem to be more moon-like parts of creation than human-like parts.
And if that's true, what does that say about the creator?
And thus, this poem was born. It is in my first chapbook, Whistling Past the Graveyard.
Geology, the True Life Science
Our planet—warm, gooey corner
of a cold, lifeless cosmos,
a primordial ooze which forms
the perfect building blocks for life,
a miraculous exception to the universal
rule. The official astronomer’s story.
But perhaps God prefers rocks and minerals.Why else create such a diverse abundance?
Maybe animals and humans are the experiment
gone horribly wrong, an accident of pumping liquids
surrounded by decaying flesh.
Bones calcify, kidneys form stones, arteries hardenwith plaque—instead of medical disaster,
perhaps our bodies move towards their ultimate evolutionary
destiny, seeking God’s pleasure.