i am sorry. i drive down the road, cussing under my breath at the bad drivers who are really just your other beloved children. i cringe at the awkward and ugly fast food hamburger signs in their primary colors and slick skins of shiny vinyl, lit by neon and hoisting on their backs the bodies of workers and cows and chickens and children, all sacrificed to industry for the quick and cheap pocketing of profits which is the basis of our consumer culture and the foundation of my own daily bread. not you. none of this is you, god. and yet the philosopher tells me that you are everywhere, that you are embodied even in these flat patties, flesh configured into discs. they say that you cannot be separated from the bald concrete landscape of this street, and that your grace beats in the hearts of every cursed driver cutting me off and curbing the flow of rush-hour panic. but god, who is called good, i am not good. images and metaphors poof like clouds of flour into my mind, they could become whole loaves of delicious books, plays, shows, i know it – i am a geyser of your word, of ironic and subversive art, i am that cloud of gas pouring into the sky from the hole in the street this morning, without form or shape, all energy and potential without a point. i have wasted your investment, god. you gave me talents and i buried them. i juggled your gifts, i jiggled hips dealt quips for attention and lips and my shame is deep, so deeply deep, that i have failed you, that i am nothing to show for all that is you within in me, seething, foaming, the glorious madness of invention and imagination steaming through my brain and heart and how i long to find the spout for it, a way to shout on the mountain top how much i owe you and love you, how much i feel that you have been within me all this time but to claim you as mine when even your presence can’t perfect me? at some point i should have jumped off and into the rising cloud, it would have carried me off, i would have floated and flown and felt your spirit and i would have shone with you, your inescapable goodness pillowing every word, every car, every curb, every star, and even i would have believed you existed.