where, over, thin-crust pizza,
I could ask him three questions.
I always lead with an inquiry
about why he made humans
In my dream, God then laughs
uproariously – looking, for just a
moment like my late uncle Paul
(without salad stuck in his teeth)
This is where the dream always
ends, leaving me to ponder; was
it just a lame dollar-a-ticket raffle,
or am I not much of a dreamer?