The Existence of God Confirmed!

Once, I saw

the star freshman wide receiver

at the dining hall.

I held the door open

just as I would for anyone. I don’t

care that much for football,

but I like to be polite.

As he passed, he said to his friend:

“You know, if you feed ‘em

gunpowder

they become real killers.

You can make a lot of money

off pitbulls.”

In the year of 2003 AD

my aunt – with four houses

and yearly trips abroad –

got me a fifty buck patriot bond

which she spent maybe

a jackson on.

It will reach its maximum value

of fifty american dollars

in 2033 AD, when

I will be too old

to be sure about my age.

But who knows?

Maybe I’ll be glad

at the age

of one-hundred-something-years-old

for fifty bucks

that took thirty years to accumulate.

At work, on Christmas Eve,

the store was packed

in the middle of a pandemic.

It was like a warzone in there,

the trenches of World War I, the Somme.

An older man, frail and mildewy,

ordered a pourover. I told him

it would be a while. Pourovers are

hard when bullets whiz overhead

and artillery thunders.

The old man didn’t care.

He wanted his pourover.

and when I handed it out

maybe ten minutes later,

and told him to have a good day.

he scoffed

and told me to fuck off.

Apparently it took too long.

I love when these things happen –

when old men, on Christmas Eve,

tell a kid to fuck off

because of coffee;

when my rich aunt

barely coughs up fifty bucks

for her nephew;

when the star football player

is into dogfighting.

It affirms that the universe

has inherent balance.

It’s like waking up

well-rested

one clear, crisp, bright

saturday morning,

making coffee

that really refreshes you,

eating a breakfast

that’s actually healthy,

taking your dog on a walk

that you both enjoy,

sitting down on the couch

and the news says:

“The Existence of God Confirmed!”