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Even On My Knees

David J. Thompson

I don’t bother much with God
because, frankly, he’s not very good
at his job. Who cares about a God
who lets landlords never return
my security deposits, or allows
crying ex-girlfriends to call me
in the middle of the night, or has
bosses make me sit in pointless
meeting after pointless meeting
every day at work? And enough of
the thou shalt nots already,
I want to worship a competent God
that won’t let the Red Sox win
another World Series for a million years,
or makes sure I can always find German beer
on sale at the grocery store, and arranges
for Kristen Stewart to be my girlfriend.
That’s the kind of God I would pray to
like crazy, even get down on my knees,
and not just on Sundays either.

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