The bets are on

T
Saturday night
And God is out
Out on the town
Tonight He’s having
A break from saving souls
For He and the devil
Have changed roles
The Templeis quiet
The Torah secure
The door was locked
But God slipped out
He and the devil
Had a betting game
A game He couldn’t miss out
Last time they played
The bet was Job
Since then, saints
Have made sure
They aren’t too saintly
To be the wager
In a celestial betting game
Now God and the devil
Have laid their bets
At two to one, the devil’s favour
That God will not be recognised
So God as man in on the prowl
By God, He’ll try a different trick
To prove the devil wrong
Down an alley way
In inky octopus camouflage
The fetid smell
Of ripening chunder and
Fermenting piss
He came across a man
More shadow than substance
A man supported by the wall
Exhausted with the weight
Of frustrated desire, lust
Hardened by hunger
For the little sleep of death
To obliterate the dream
The reverie of love
And God, cupping the man’s face
Into his hands, He traced the lines
Around his mouth and drawing close
He ran his fingers around his lips
Then traced the same path
With His tongue and
Breathed into his mouth
The man, more
Shadow than substance
Murmured in disbelief
“God, what a kiss”
And God chuckled
A kiss was all it took
He knew He’d won
His bet,

I live next to a Jewish Temple and Saturday is their Sabbath or Holy Day, hence the reference to the Templein this poem.

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badgerslabyrinth

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