Have you heard the odd shuffling down in the rubble?
Folks say it’s the old Maker-Destroyer
(God, Man, Mephisto – call Him whatever you will)
lost in a muddled disquisition with Himself,
intimating that a good old-fashioned
Enlightenment war might help clear the detritus.
But would He have to endure once more the practiced
incompetence of the nobility,
the hauteur, the insufferable presumption
which He no doubt would have to recreate from scratch?
Nah – better to be a mere tinkerer,
hang out the laundry, develop a new stanza,
find yet another way to read the same old world,
accept in the end the default settings,
save all the rest for a rainy eternity.
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