Summer in Kansas is why,
despite the legislature,
despite the Board of Education,
and the specter of God in politics,
there is space for the atheist.
Argument by design; the perfect
balance of day and night, the fine
cocktail of oxygen and carbon dioxide,
the unaided perfection of the eye;
all falls apart in August
when the sun, the moist smothering
atmosphere and the burning winds
all stand forth against the lives
of every worshiper and every
blasphemer to show us this world
was not made for us, and we
are not so well made for this world,
and the only defense against this creating
is a tiny air conditioner of
decidedly un-divine design.
I'm back to writing a poem every day, whether they stink or not.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
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