Case History ~ T.R. Hummer

 

We live in God’s imagination,

    he whispers on the street to strangers.

He needs to take his medication,

 

But the angel of his unborn prescription

    squats with a sword of flame at the pharmacy door.

We live in God’s imagination.

 

He sleeps in the black hole of a subway station,

    unexamined, unanalyzed, not able to remember

He needs to take his medication

 

So the voices of his inner congregation

    will sing in tune again. If he could be sure

We live in God’s imagination

 

Seamlessly as neurons in a ganglion

    he might stop twitching. And how much more

He needs to take his medication

 

Depends on the contrail that tortures the event horizon

    incising above the square its insidious either/or.

We live in God’s imagination.

    He needs to take His medication.