Patrick Paridee Samuel

God A Lot

I say god a lot
but don’t mean it
like that. I say
god I’ve had it,
or you won’t
believe what I am
about to say: I own secret
ceramic angels, dried funeral
roses and Mom’s nativity.
I say my god meaning
you’re too much,
all of this is too much.
God, I roll my eyes,
my lips sneer skeptical
of the tall tale
whale’s mouth,
childhood picture books
swallowing me whole.
I half-dream flying
gods crash land
on my head, dream
Mom’s wicker hairdryer
basket thrown as a joke
to wake me up already.
For some, god provides
a structure to justify
killing. It’s funny
to think god might
want what we want.
My god when time
is squandered I am
valuable. A cloud
ungodly high, a whole
house of them
on a mountainside.
I say god asking no one
I know for help.
God the molecule
in music, the oyster grit
I chase dripping
from each eye.
 

Patrick Paridee Samuel’s debut collection, And Another Thing (Broken Sleep Books) and his chapbook A Suite of Heads (Ghost City Press) are both forthcoming within the year. His most recent work appears or is forthcoming in & Change, Allium, Ghost City Review, Maudlin House, Poetry, SWING, and Waxing and Waning. He received an MFA from Columbia College Chicago, and currently resides in Nashville where he works in university press publishing.