They say that God is full of huge places
That he stitched up this universe with a breath
But still stands in hallways
Waiting for the last doors to creak closed
I opened the fridge, to see
If the light still comes on when I’m hungry
Or if that too is swallowed up
By a stomach too empty to feed
He’s no Zeus’s lightning, but still
He is loudest in my distances
Shaking my desk awake
When words threaten to wash me clean
Away
I still stand at the universe’s edge
Peaking within the cumulus
For any hall-ward door
Seeking my own stitching sigh
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