altar clothe

i saw god in a stock photo.
we were walking through the goodwill
seeking refuge in all kinds
of beautiful nonsense. there he was
with a linen scented face. i was looking
for altar tools. it was a cordless november.
all i wanted was to be a human again
but that always feels like something
i'm reaching for. do other people 
see the mirror & think "almost there"?
i brush my teeth with a paint brush.
mouth full of trees. i've learned
to fill every empty space with a knickknack.
in between my ribs are snowglobes 
& that portrat of god which i purchased
& he quickly vacated the frame. a coward.
always running from containment.
if i were god i would first turn all landlords 
into fireflies. there, they too can learn
to try talking to lovers with only
the light of their own bodies. power out.
summer's talons. we sweat & quickly ate
the melting ice cream cones from the freezer.
when you get fired from a place
i'm told you put all your desk things
into a little box. mostly, i stumble through
the day like this. all my little needs in a box.
god could show himself any time
but he is afraid. he knows he's 
royally fucked up for the most part.
i bought an altar clothe with 
little bird knit into the doilie. i bought
some lost candles to make into a crown.
i am a winter-is-alway-coming kind of person.
the cockroaches playing their keyboards
beneath fridge. all i wanted 
was a holy moon to slice at the counter.
sitting with sugar dripping down 
our chests. a bookend. a chalice.
the checkout line, a glorious little purgatory.