The one-eyed poet saw the world awash
in small gods—everything from stink bugs
and hollyhocks to forest creeks and girls
in green bathing suits. Lord what a vision.
To consider loons as small gods would
be a stretch for most two-eyed people.
And to float the idea that we consider,
even refer to, one another as small gods?
Cries of blasphemy, blasphemy would
ring from the peaks of slippery slopes
as the blind clutched their children close
and grabbed blank bibles in search of
chapter and verse, or at least a footnote.
Believing people to be small gods could
lead one God knows where. One might
consider, dare see, that black gods matter.