but someone who transcends
through a big inner door,
becoming eternal?
Why not a robin or a rabbit,
or a frog? Even a street rat
with enough faith could be a saint.
Faith—what a stubborn thing,
like a booger dried on a pillowcase,
makes us laugh like kids.
We've never been without.
We've always had one foot
in the grave and the other in a God,
whose forms shift with the ages.
Anyone who disagrees
hasn't watched our feet.
So, how’s that third person
treating us?
Good.
Good God.
Good.
And isn’t it funny
we cooked up a recipe
from a Jackson Pollock cookbook tonight?
A rat becoming a saint,
Ain't that a lemon twist!
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