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#16

So that

the God whom humans had decided

is Consciousness itself

whose center is the self

and circumference

everywhere

looked down from the outskirts

of His empire of the conscious

in the far suburbs of His kingdom

where He had set up a temporary headquarters

a sort of summer pavilion

or rather a winter palace

since it was quite cold

way out there in space & time

and much warmer

down in the heart & mind of things

And He looked down from His throne

which was of the portable variety

sort of like a Port-O-Let

with handles fore-and-aft

so that He could be carried

anywhere as needed

without dismounting

because He was always having to move

on the run

depending upon

where His Beings

human and inhuman

had shifted their consciousness which was constantly expanding

by natural or non-natural means

So that

He looked down from His high throne

and saw light upon the face of the earth

and saw that it was good

And He said to Himself looking down

‘It’s a good deal!

Life is a good deal!’

although even as He spake it

He could hear a devilish voice

behind him whispering

‘Life sucks’

which was very discouraging to God

who would go into these

deep glooms

(and some suspected

he was a manic depressive)

But He

would always manage to

climb up and out

where He could see

the light on earth again

So that He looked down again

just this past winter and

decide to take a New Year’s inventory

and took out his portable Mac

and started to write down everything

such as:

One Dutch ship sighting Sandy Hook New Jersey

and mistaking it for

the Hook of Holland

One very beautiful woman

weeping in a restaurant

her hand held

by a black lover

One red lobster on a leash

strolling down a Paris boulevard

One very small dog peeing

on a very large tree

in which two birds are

trying to sing

One roar of an MGM lion

on a silver screen

One fine day under the Linden trees

in Boston Common

One ice cream about to be licked

by a boy in short pants

One enlightened politician

behind bars

One Zapatista

And one fine anarchist picnic

And one monkey playing a masterpiece

on a computer

One merry-go-round on a deserted playgroung

with wooden horses all galloping

in the same direction

One spent serpent eating its own tail

One cool evening in autumn capitals

their avenues of leaves ablaze

One Prague symphony written on

the walls of Auschwitz

And a stone a leaf an unfound door

And a cow a clod a far figure

by a railroad crossing at dusk

to flash upon a Pullman window

and be gone

And the great cracked bell of St. Sulpice

shaking the dusk of Paris

And Mother in a manger

because no room at an inn

And a kid called Jesus

posing as a Christchild

And a flight of blackbirds

over the Appian Way

where legions in battle dress

are once again marching

And one hot soccer star

wearing a Forza Italia armband

And six hundred and forty-three delegates

to an over-population conference

walking out on the Pope

who refuses to wear a condom

And one egg

rolling under a pushcart

pursued by three billion people

And one moment of silence

And one moment of epiphany

One moment of ecstasy

One moment of madness

And one moment of silence

And still looking down at everything

God spake in tongues and said:

‘Ah yes

and these are all thought I acted out

but they were only tryouts for

the real thing’

And hence He started to sing

in his vox populi

a whole new opera

(all of which turned out to be

the libretto for

our twenty-first century)

with a singing part for every heart

and even a part

for the very heart

of our ungodly

unconscious

Lawrence Ferlinghetti