I wonder how God feels about roads and sidewalks and parking lots
I wonder if he finds them a waste
I wonder if he is angry because they have defiled his best work
I wonder what he felt when the first drop of oozing black tar poisoned his sweet grass and soil
If he is sad because man has rejected his perfection
I wonder if he sees them all from afar,
And if that view looks like a net strangling the earth
And even if he does think all these things, can he see a small beauty in the corruption?
In the way they glitter up at the sun, like thousands of diamonds crystallized in black velvet,
glaring up at him, mocking him
But I am not God, and I don’t know what he thinks, and I don’t know if he has an opinion on the
matter at all because
I don’t know if he exists