Poem: “see the cows”

Adam was on acid, so we left him searching for meaning in my bedroom.

my speeding car, a fire ant full of sting and apathy and greasy hair.

just me and Jack, him rewinding cassette tapes in my stereo,

all four ears straining to find something in the static.

we drove to a farm one town over.

this tornado off in the warm distance looked like God’s esophagus, sucking up everyone but the sinners, not minding the taste. we were safe.

we kicked rocks at other rocks and talked about death. Jack said, knowing full well we got nowhere else to go:

“this whole town looks like a graveyard with houses for tombstones.”

oh, the Devil told me not to look for God,

but then, Adam called me and Jack, voice shot through with rot. he was sure he had found Him in my pantry.

and when we got off the phone and Jack climbed on top of my car,

with the summer humidity glazing over everything,

i think i saw God in the bending of his knees.