The Grumbling God



I made a list of the things I want to be:

ebullient, skinny, kind


I lit tea-lights, taped

the list to my refrigerator, tried

to remember how to pray


It mocked me as I filled my mouth

with muffins & that memory

of squeezing

your eyes into nomads

so I crumpled the guilt into a ball

& swallowed that too


Now my stomach won't stop grumbling

You were supposed to be kind



This poem was originally published in the April 2015 issue of The Birds We Piled Loosely.