holy holy

My other car is a piano that plays

Chopin preludes on the freeway as I wait

for all our headlights to burn out like stars

or some other natural disaster to end us

or how did that one go again? it's hard

to watch the road when you are trying

to play an instrument you never learned

and the wipers are wiping the notes clear

off the page and you know that in some

far-off country, this rain

would bring the children to the pasture

it would bring the mothers and fathers

to the pasture it would call the cattle

and the geese, the lightfooted trees, the last

of the nonbelievers to the pasture

it would bring them to their knees and kissing

the hem

of some god's robes but please

don't ask so much of us.

we will not open our sunroofs

to your glory. we will not roll down

our windows. oh lord, we simply

cannot bask in the miracle of your holy

holy as it ruins our upholstery

oh lord