and the lord appeared to me
in the passenger seat of my car
on River Avenue
and he said nothing
we had already drowned 17 times
in the icy Mon
sodden legs kicking out the windows
flimsy fingers no match for carseat buckles
which one do I save first
and I was drowning again up on the road
pounding the dry steering wheel
make it stop make it stop
but all I did was hurt my flimsy fist
and he said nothing
the suffering servant appeared to me
not my servant, but the servant of all sufferings
and he did his job
tears streamed down his face
ice cold river water
and he said nothing
what good is a god who suffers
who bears grief
who carries sorrow
what good is a god
who says nothing
I’m older now
has life washed me out
I no longer demand that you heal
but I demand presence
and I will keep demanding it
with a snotty nose
in fits of rage
consumed with terror
be here now god:
damn it
and I find you in my grief
in a few moments of apparition
with nothing to say but
here
on River Avenue