God on Facebook

On the fifty-fifth day of containment

God’s porridge tasted of ashes and soap.

Last year on Ayahuasca,

he took selfies with a jaguar.

Well, the creature he hugged in the pic

was a poacher in feline pelt,

a creature of crapulence,

full of sweat under the rosette-ish sky,

but God gained the awe he had aimed for

when posted on FB: Arm in Arm with Nature.

Hero as he used to be,

later he took photos even of his framed photos.

Life!

Nature is like a painting, isn’t it? Almost.

Now all he has is wamble and time.

Time to reflect in his domestosed kitchen.

How to transform into flame. Into fame?

Wish I had a spirit jaguar.

‘Reality doesn’t interest her, the truth does’,

it was the note beside God’s goddaughter’s

grade, a couple of years back.

‘Does it apply to me?’, he contemplated.

I climb those jungle paths

every minute of my lockdown.

I swelter, I disguise, I google,

as if…

Sweet home jungle.

What’s the truth of the beasts I have to immortalize?

What do they bridge?