Dr. Quigley Wants to Know God

He is tired of letting it all
get away from him.

He stares at his book on the shelf,
admires something in his hand,

and he lets go:
if you were a fly on the wall

you would not see the warts
on the backs of his hands,

but Dr. Quiqley believes in them,
he knows what they mean.

He is concerned about the world,
and he is tired of writing books

no one reads, not even his mother.
He walks the streets,

and the women he sees
are all beautiful to him:

if they only knew, he thinks,
I love even the fat ones

with varicose veins! I love them!
The Golden Rule is no thump

in the book for Dr. Quigley,
he is concerned about people.

When he looks in the mirror,
he sees decay,

after all, he studied it; he knows
his eyes are eggshells

stamped with cracked
scroll dust, thin lines leading

to the place where Adam lay
down on the ground,

his bloody rib
ready

for Eve