The God of the Normandy Coast

When the God of the Normandy Coast
sits down for His afternoon pastry,

the waiter asks Him if He wants coffee
or wine with His snack and if He notices

the dead man in the car just off Main
and Grand. The God is rearranging napkins

into white crosses. Such neat little rows.
That is why He is the God and you are

the dishwasher watching Him through slits
in the dumbwaiter. He chooses wine,

which was predictable. The dead man
comes up to Him, sits down, asks,

"Well, what's the verdict?" The God
shrugs His shoulders. Over fifty years

now and still the shrugging of shoulders
You'd think the only real dead were

in the past. You feel like shaking
His shoulders, shouting, "Come out

of it!" But you are dead too, waiting
in line, washing those dishes till they shine.

Copyright © 2009 James Doyle All rights reserved
from Redactions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission