My mother told me		stay close/ stand
	next 	to me/ I will		I will always
love you/ love the 	way you stand	next
to         me/ as long as	as 	long as  you
stay/ store 	yourself/ 	at the center
of the 	cosmos/ a 	cosmos child/ a cosmos
	child	           of God/ I would	tell her
the only time		the only 	time I talk
      to God	is with my 	hands/ and trust
trust me	       Mom	    it’s not intentional/
	because 	I may be aligned 	with the
universe/ but 	    but I’m never	   aligned
	with God/ I see/ 	I see 	God how
Caravaggio saw	saints/ cow-eyed and	moony/
		With dirt between	       dirt between their
toes/ and intoxicated/	with moon-pie faces unable
	to speak       to       speak		to        speak
Mom/ 		when mothers say stay close/	they mean
		leave    but don’t 	leave/ don’t	leave my
	cosmic child/ 	don’t leave God out	     of your 	life/
out of		your writing/	out 	of your	living/ so
I tell 	her	I won’t/ I won’t	talk 	to God	      or build
	an alter/ but I will	I     will live		within a
tabernacle of		animals/ I don’t 	tell her	 I won’t
believe/	but I 		won’t/ and 	when I speak to
	her 	I use 	   my hands and		when I
speak to her		I spell her 	name/ which in my
	doughy eyes		my doughy 		face
spells		God/	for her and		only her
			her cosmic child/ talks	to God/