NaPM April 24 2013

[milo]

Playing God

The tedium of daily life
is filled with things I can't control.
Traffic. Rain. The impolite.
And then there is the daily toil;
day by day the days they pass
monotony will take its toll.

With my hands I can play God.
Press and palm; mend and mold;
my hobby is to clay-make voles
and little buildings, streets
and signs; statues, bridges;
the common and the slightly bold.

Once it happened, buildings fell,
in the place of pearly voles.
Some voles were broken past repair;
some streets completely crumbled there.

I know it was the brown voles who
destroyed the white in jealousy.
The brown voles, they all look the same;
they're oily, smell bad; cowardly.
I shook my arm and smashed the brown;
knocked their bisque-made buildings down.
One thousand browns for each pearl lost
as browns are evil they bear the cost.
Whites are beautiful and brave
and pristine as the Virgin's hole.