it might have been God

acting on my own behalf,
i might have been interested
in meeting God
but in the end He went to a tailor in Memphis
while i visited my sister in San Antonio;
seriously, how was i to know?
we failed to communicate.
was i too early or was i again late?
and once at home,
i removed most of my doors
and painted a few walls
a new color or two;
well, what's a man to do?
other
wise
i might have returned to my promiscuous ways
which on most days
i'm able to ignore.
i scrubbed the basement floor,
had a chair embroidered,
and determined to learn how to make bread
with The Italian Baker.
thanks, no salt and pepper shaker:
i wanted to watch the yeast rise!
well, what's life without a surprise?
my very favorite one was in 1952
when i was turning four:
my father told me we were poor
and no one would ever notice me
even if i wanted them to!
button your shirt and tie your shoe!
yes, pop.  it would eventually stop.
back then, my family had a glass tumbler,
a dust mop, a sofa of thin blue cloth,
a solitary fig,
and for my mother's bald head, a dime store wig
which made her look like an Comanche warrior,
but we had no grand idea of what comes next
we couldn't easily hide
well, maybe hope for a rising tide?
one going, say,
to the third floor
or perhaps more.
and after i went off to war
i wore a sign on my chest
which someone later showed to a local banker
and he gave me a job
but never taught me how to legally rob;
i saw money piled in a box
it was the biggest box ever seen
like in my post-traumatic stress disorder dream
and i stood mesmerized
i saw huge gold pieces
and found them amusing
but i knew deep down inside that i was the one losing.
well, i had some friends to see
and they would welcome me
and no amount of house cleaning
could replace the meaning
in that.
should i take my car
and acoustic guitar?
i was tired of wishful thinking
but my belly stayed full
well, what's life without another fool?
i remember very clearly twenty years later
the beauty of a loyal dog
who followed me when i walked:
she was always the quiet one when we talked.
she would snuggle up
while i read my book;
and when the wind picked up
i wouldn't even look.
it might have been God coming back from Memphis
or, to make this clear,
a dear
jolly man in a red suit with his flying sled
led
by a red-nosed reindeer
all coming with gifts.
i always wanted the presents,
fearful as i was of the God
and his crippling rents.