I''m God, - and I'm he

With a capital G

(All the lower-case chaps have disbanded);

And if nobody knows

How at first I arose-

Well neither do I to be candid.

But it seems (though it's queer)

That I've always been here.

As for kinsfolk I fear I have none;

No father or mother,

No sister or brother, -

Just me and a ghost and his son.

And I didn't apply

For this job in the sky

Of producing the earth from the air;

But, surrounded by Night,

I requested a light

And the whole thing just snowballed from there.

I thought it divine

That concoction of mine

As I spun it around to inspect it;

But (the workings of Fate!)

I discovered too late

There was no one but me to direct it.

But the greatest mistake

I could possibly make

Was to put man and wife on the planet;

It was soon overflowing

From what they called 'knowing'

And I rued that I ever began it.

Oh, the millions down there

At their praising and prayer

Who implore me to bow down an ear

And attend to their craving,

Confessing and raving,

- It's hell, I can tell you, up here!

The endless confessions

Of trivial transgressions -

I've heard them so often before;

To be fair, the Cistercians

Have novel diversions

But the rest are a terrible bore.

Petitions are worse

(In fact they're a curse)

As they tend to conflict and confuse me;

So sometimes I'll say:

"To the devil and pray!"

(I shouldn't, of course, - do excuse me).

Some pray for a war

(They imagine I'm Thor)

And others that peace shall obtain;

While for every one

Who solicits for sun

There's another who wants it to rain.

And as for the praises -

I hate all those phrases

Like Father Divine and Almighty;

And my critical taste

Hasn't ever embraced

The Te Deum (still less the Venite).

As a duty it's drear

So I turn a deaf ear

To confessions, petitions and praise;

But then nobody knows

(All they say is it shows

That I move in mysterious ways).

I'd relinquish my post

And retire with the ghost

If his son would accept it instead;

But he's long had his eye on

Returning to Zion

And judging the quick and the dead.

So it's all in the air

Till he's finished down there,

And I say when I'm low now and then:

"I'll be here with the ghost

And the heavenly host

For ever and ever. Amen."

(Copyright remains with the author.)
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