god stole my gun last night

god stole my gun last night

right from my locked car
center console
i bet he didn't look anything like my sunday school god
in a filthy hoodie
thumping the top of a shim
with a gloved and open palm
at night, no doubt
so as to not be seen
by mere mortals
i know he didnít smash the window
didnít leave a trace or a scratch
i bet he at least had a beard

god stole my gun last night

he left the door cracked
waving just a little bit
just so I knew
thatís the first sign
i saw that i had been
touched by an angel

My heart skipped when I saw it
but Iím no stranger to intrusion
iíve given and taken
taken so, so much
he left the console open
but not wholly so
It wasnít even close
to closed
my second sign
 of divine

i fell into the car with my wife
we had fallen out overnight
so when she saw and asked
i told her i did it anyway
there is enough darkness
hung over our door
for one day
we don't have the proper silverware
 for a visit from big G god

God stole my gun last night
He didnít take anything else
 and there was nothing else
 ripe for picking
i saw no blue light
no uniforms going door to door
like the times before
i saw no clipboard
no other victims milling about
complaining about the useless gates
we all pay for

this God came for me alone

how could he have known?
i didnít
now he's sleeping
on a bench
in the park again

god stole my gun last night

he picked it up, so i couldn't
he felt the metallic heft
the raw
always-available power
of a firearm
he wondered who made these things
which greedy and absolutist
heavenly colleague?

i hope he held it lightly, between finger and thumb

like the rust on the slide wasnít rust
but mud, or something sticky
i donít know what he did with it
thatís not for me to know.
i know he didnít leave it there
to do that thing it does
make metaphorical messes into real ones
might have dropped it at a pawn shop

god stole my gun last night, and it saved my life
Written by GreaterPeril (Jared from the Backwoods)
Author's Note
reformatted to fit this screen
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