Cthulhu tap-dancing

for Maggie

you said you wouldn't care
if Jesus came back
as Cthulhu tap-dancing

hello
my baby
hello
my honey
hello
my ragtime gal

coming out of its maw
like a phonograph stuffed
in an octopus throat

it reminded me of a story
in which a preacher sees
a peacock unfurling its blues
and cries with jubilation
that Jesus will come like that

whether peacock or alien god
the presence of that great divine
would surely solidify hope
or at least meaning

as for me
the emptiness
occasionally visited
is not enough to justify
the leaping into God

yet still the New Jerusalem
is one I rather like,
a sainted green mirage
of leafy avenues through fields
and slanted moors
and lone copses

if the lord is wandering
it's here

for me

at least