god is a little child

Experimenting with toys

Alphabets blocks, too simple

So he casts them aside

For Lincoln logs and lego sets – he builds

A world around himself


god is a little child

Presented with a sheet of blank white paper

He stains it a thousand wax colors

So the ideas are there, all savage and lovely

But even he cannot pick them apart

So he casts them aside

Turns the paper over

Now thinking about his work

And by the time he is done

By the time he is satisfied

The crumpled torn up rough drafts

Are thick fog in the air

And lay lost in layers of Earth


god is a little child

Just learning how to write

His sloppy letters come to rest everywhere

And even when refined

They flow and flow and flow

In experimentation with style

With free verse and metaphor

Tragedy and farce

He scraps so many histories

In search of the perfect story

The perfect picture

Still looking and wondering and changing for

God is the mind of man