‘My god,’ he began and meant it. This sparked confusion
among the gods on watch beneath the dome
that poets call heaven. He had not meant to shun
any other gods but he had. The space deities roam
contracted to a point that’s everywhere.
The tuning fork of time cracks. Lightning cackles
maniacally on being loosed. The stare
of Zeus goes cross-eyed as Fate itself unshackles
the dogs of ways and means. It’s all much more
than the man expected when he prayed or swore.
Amen to that.
PS-I love the idea of lightning cackling.
Cheers, Elise