NOT SATISFIED AT ALL WITH THIS POEM CRITIQUES GREATLY ENCOURAGED!!

love like a hippy loves
love is to me like a New Yorker is to
obscenities
love like you wish you could
that’s how you love, that’s how you
make it.

I’m god. No really, I’m god.
Seriously!
Oh come on-you pray to
me
every morning
you fear me as the sun sets
you fear me when the earth quakes
and here I am
I’m in front of you
realize me.

What’s that? You refuse.
Well, isn’t that a gas?
What-what’s that-oh.
You need to attend a spiritual
service recognizing god,
but-oh.
you still don’t believe me, eh?
I guess cause it’s
early in the morning
and I
haven’t brushed my teeth
and admittedly, I look
like crap.

And I’m homeless.

No wonder you don’t believe in me.
Believe in god, but not in me.

love.

I love you all.

And I quote, “The sexual act is
The vehicle through which
man displays this aspect of
his partnership
with
God, and this is one reason why its perversion
Is considered among the
worst
of
sins.”

I added the line breaks.

There’s a distortion of my love?
My!
I see people going out and disgracing
my love!
And to think it was…
a present, all this time.

But what is it, my love?

No, I’m asking.
I’m open-minded.

I may be god, but I’m open-minded.
I want to know of this
love
stretched out and guillotined
so much it doesn’t really
resemble what I set it out
to
be-
or it does? Fill me in.
I’m out of the loop. I’m clueless.

All I know is two things.

Damn it, yes, two things, I’m
sorry if I lead you to believe otherwise.

Okay, so two things.
Here they are:
one-
I’m full of love.
I just know this.

two-
all around, people are writing these
books
and poems
about me,
it’s awful flattering,
but I don’t know.

I really don’t.
just these two things

love.