God, sometimes you just don't come through.
Do you need a woman to look after you?


Sometimes, I think
I could marry God.
And I'm no Immaculate Mary,
but I can still claim virginity
despite a soul that's been fucked over
(repeatedly).

So I think,
I could marry God
Now, there's someone
who would never lie,
would never leave me,
would understand me
inside and out.
And I wonder if I could live
without the ability to keep secrets
from one who holds so many.
(Tell me, Love,
don't I do that already?)

But I think,
I could marry God
because sometimes a girl needs
a little androgony
and a lover who is not some
wham, bam, thank you ma'am
but a truly spiritual experience.

And I think,
I could marry God
though I suppose He'd expect me
to read all His books
which maybe isn't so great a sacrafice
when put in perspective,
and I hope He isn't so demanding
of His wife as His children.
Die for their sins, Son!
Then let's see if you can
raise yourself back up!
I'll even open the tomb for you.
(Took Him three days to figure
that one out.
Most Fathers just play catch.)

But I think,
I could marry God
and though I know He's had that
reputation for holding grudges,
I think He's leaning toward forgiveness
these days,
because I hear He's gotten
a lot more mellow
since He started having kids.
The younger ones
have less impressive resumes
and much less success convincing
the Masses,
because we tend to label them
"crazy"
God doesn't have any other children
but Jesus!
And that's a performance
that's hard to follow.

Still I think,
I could marry God.
Even though I never wanted kids
of my own,
the Firstborn seems like
someone I'd like to know better.
I hear He has some neat tricks,
but I do not envy the Mother
who raised Him.
Jesus, just because you can turn
that water into wine,
it doesn't mean we allow
underage drinking in this house.
And he might argue,
with his sixteen years of flesh-wisdom,
You'll see, Mom. Someday,
children as young as six will be
drinking wine in my house
for all the blood I spill!

That's nice, dear, go
wash your face for supper.

But I think,
Yeah, I could marry God
We could drink tea of rain water
and eat multiplying loaves
while we play chess
and discuss the Mysteries of the Heavens
and why are we really here,
anyway?
Because only children are denied information
for their own protection.
(Don't you agree, Love?)
Yeah, I could marry God
(unless You beat Him to the proposal.)

11/19/2002

Author's Note: The lyrics at the beginning are from "God" by Tori Amos.

Posted on 11/25/2002
Copyright © 2024 Meredith C Hartwell