I want mozzarella sticks so big they are considered mozzarella dicks.

Fucking Deaf (A poem about God) by Jonathan McDaniel

I’ve been walking for a while now
And this cold wind,
It pierces
Pierces through me like a knife
Damaged and bleeding I still walk.
Crying,
I’ll just blame it on this wind.
As I do, a familiar feeling passes over me
That thought of thinking about
Thinking about God
About life
About me
And them.

It’s one of those deep moments in life
The ones where instead of taking the shortcut home
You walk the long way
Just to have that wind piercing
And those thoughts racing
Those thoughts like
Where are you, God?
Because I heard you were up in the sky
I heard you were listening to my prayers
I heard you were listening
But you’re not, are you?
Your fucking deaf
You must be
Fucking deaf that is
Because more than half the shit I ask of you
Is never answered
But why the fuck would it be?
Why would you even bother?
What do you owe me?
Nothing.
I heard you were in the sky
So maybe I’ll scream
That’s it, I’ll scream
You just can’t hear me because I’m so far away
That’s it
But I’m still awaiting a response
I say I don’t believe in you
And I don’t
I believe in another
Because I still find myself praying in times of need
When I need help,
Need a sounding board
That kind of help I can’t get from anyone here
Because I’m sick
Sick of being everyone else’s listener
I need someone else.

Why would I ask for help from someone in the clouds?
I shouldn’t.
So I’ll ask for it down here
To a God who can hear me
My God
My God
It’s one that I don’t have to look up to
It isn’t better than me
It never tries to be
We are even
Equals
It’s a friend
Sitting across from me at a table at night
When I’m alone.
It’s the floor beneath me
And the piercing wind around me,
That’s who I ask for help from.

I loathe the church
Going to it
Saying all of our prayers together
Dressing up only for Sunday
But I don’t look that nice everyday
Most days I look like shit
So I like to believe that so does my God
And we both look like shit together
Not giving a shit, about looking like shit
Together
Oh, and I can swear
Like I have been
Because that’s real
That’s who I am
A potty mouthed fool
Pushing through the wind
Just trying to get through it all.

My God’s a chill dude
We talk and talk and that’s all I can think
That it is a chill dude
It has no gender
No race
No judgments
Just it
It has help when needed
And shoulders to be cried upon
And a wall to be yelled at
Screamed at
Talked to
Care about.

So to it I say thank you
And it says thank you back
Because it wants to be there for me,
Not judge me for who I am
What I love
Or what I’ve done
Because everyone else in the world
Does that enough for it,
It just helps me get through the shit I’ve done
Because I’ve done a lot of shit
And everyone needs a little help
Every once and a while.
Help,
To get through the lying
The cheating
The “no’s” and the “yes’s”
The bullshit
And desires
And
The unwanted wants
Those especially.

My God where’s a hoodie and jeans
Because it needs to be comfortable
Before it deals with all of my problems
and laughter
and ghetto-ness
And all of me.
It is barefoot
Because it needs to feel my life
As it walks through it with me.
I love it
And it loves me
Even when I fuck up
When I scream at it
Insult it for not being there
(When it actually was)
Apologize to it
Even when I don’t have to
Because it is a great, great friend
And I don’t know where I’d be without it

Without the private prayers
(Which are always more like little talks)
Or the reassuring words
Chanted after falling
To help get me back up.

Because my god
Is me
Those private prayers are these thoughts now,
And I found my own God in this walk alone
I know it will always be with me
Because it needs to be
I need it to be
To get through
This piercing wind.