THE HANDSHAKE ABOUT GOD
by Wolfe Pangs
1) The melody she sings to me is always in the key of g major, and maybe if the slugging weight of her body against the will of god had a face and a name I could find a better shape that would suit this technological time machine and homeward bound would be possible.
2) Travelers from the past come and visit me and then I am reminded that we are all children of the divine maker. The maker comes to visit as well and shakes my hand in the key of g major, sings a song out of tune and places a message in my mind, somewhere in the pineal gland.
3) If earth is dead and all things in the future have been replaced with heat and dust, I still remember times and places where the lush green grew and the animals became friends with humans. I can still remember the times there were fingers along the edges of my forehead, mom’s fingers swirling patterns along my scalp during nights I couldn’t fall asleep.
4) The melody in g major she sings me to sleep as the universe implodes, swirling fingers in patters I can never recall. Mom, the earth is dead, and the weight of it all escapes me.
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