cleanup on aisle three

cleanup on aisle three

once i dreamt 

that i saw god

in the back 

of the thrift store, 

near the notebooks, 

aisle three. 

couldn't deal 

with the effort

of more eyes to 

meet--

so i just detoured right, 

sharp ninety degrees. 

picked up 

a chipped plate 

from the stack--

marked down

once, 

twice over.

imagined myself 

placing apple slices 

into its waiting mouth--

seven total, 

browning slow. 

then

woke up late

and punched my pillow.

felt bad after,

watching its dejected form

stoop and curl. 

i had a dream once, 

that i saw god--

don't know 

if it's time yet, 

so i'll look at the clock:

yes, i think i can run

another cycle--

heavy duty, extra rinse. 

grey linens bleach white

as i lay watching,

impatient.

kept in time, 

pressed against 

the curve of a six, 

the tick marks

at my feet 

shifting, breathing--

and then what?

once the hands stop turning,

i'll have 

nothing left to say 

but a murmur, 

about how

i saw god 

at the back of the thrift store. 

he did not beckon,

so i did not approach.