“So many gods!”

So many gods!   

They’re like books—you can’t read everything, you never know anything.   

Happy the man who knows but one god, and keeps him a secret.   

Every day I have different beliefs—

Sometimes in the same day I have different beliefs—

And I wish I were the child now crossing   

The view from my window of the street below.   

He’s eating a cheap pastry (he’s poor) without efficient or final cause,   

An animal uselessly raised above the other vertebrates,   

And through his teeth he sings a ribald show tune . . .   

Yes, there are many gods,   

But I’d give anything to the one who’d take that child out of my sight.