Bread Without Mold

i spoke with God last wednesday.

cramped into His tiny kitchenette

i paid mind to my posture, and

He let out a sigh.

while He scrounged His

creaky cupboards for

bread without mold,

i inquired after the state of things.

God offered me a

generous slice, which i

declined against

all sensibility.

He shrugged and then,

leaning His elbows on the counter,

admitted outright that

nothing had turned out as planned.

still i bowed as i left

and He gave a grateful nod

oh, and hey, He said,

good luck with the girl.