Spill-O Fantasizes an Apocalypse Avoided
armed with fire.
He said He was a gardener,
come to prune us away.
Looking up from the waitresses’ asses,
Spill-O saw Him coming.
will only be the measure of Your neglect,”
Spill-O said, consumed but not burned by the fire.
“So mind Your reputation and get lost.”
restrained the swarms
of terrible angels.
“The stamp of Your semblance
is nearly too much for us to carry,” Spill-O said.
“But like You, we are not completely mad.
And You are only as redeemable as us.”
God withdrew to his cosmic shyness.
Remorse had been teaching Him
slowly, since Noah.
And it’s not done teaching.
In the Long Island Sound,
a sailor heard the thunder say
Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
Spill-O exhaled and hoped
that the waitress wouldn’t charge him
for a refill on his diet soda.