Bunkbed with Buddha

Do you think God has sleepless nights?

Do you think he stays up and looks

At old photos of the universe?

Cries to scratched up vinyls?

Drags his eyes around the floor

Like they’re plastered with glue?

Do you think God plays pogs?

Do you think he uses fabric softener

To clean his pajamas?

Do you think he regrets it?

You know,

Making the world and stuff?

Maybe he misses being alone.

Maybe he’s become the kind of guy

Who prefers to sleep in the woods

By himself

Than a bunkbed with Buddha.

I certainly have.

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