Crash Test Dummies of an Imperfect God

Because we are so stupid,

the prizes in Cracker Jacks are now paper

so they can be swallowed, ladders

spackled with warnings. No getting

within a hundred feet of Stonehenge because

everyone wants to hack off a souvenir

and the way home is clogged to one lane

so whoever wants to can stare into a pothole

until coming up with a grievance. I’d vote

the greatest accomplishment of mankind

is the pickle spear. God created paradise

to tell us Get out! which is why we probably

created God who doesn’t much like being created

by ilk like us. No wonder it’s pediatrics

every morning and toxicology by happy hour.

Is it all in the mind, the dirty, dirty mind?

Maybe God tried to turn you into a garbage can

so you could be lifted by the truck’s hydraulic

arms and banged empty. Maybe a snow cone

so you could be sticky-sweet and dropped.

Maybe a genital-faced bivalve to be dashed

with Tabasco and eaten whole or, to his glory,

produce a pearl.