(If He Really Loves Me)?
We didn’t know a riptide
from a peptide, but we
knew that we just had to
find ourselves a yacht, we
all said in unison. Then
we’ll just get ourselves
a yacht, we each
thought silently
in simultaneity.
God’s like that, said
Martha to Penelope
the next afternoon.
Men!, harrumphed
Penelope, So total-
ly off the map!
And they are, to the
very end.
It was decided,
by Martha, during
a beautiful dusk,
one day near Rio
de Janeiro (and
elsewhere, and all
at once, because
She was God, after
all!), that what She’d
been truly aching for
all these millennia
was a godchild.
It had been an
eternity, probably.
And it had never
occurred to Her
before.
