God, A Poem

By James Fenton.

A nasty surprise in a sandwich,

A drawing-pin caught in your sock,

The limpest of shakes from a hand which

You’d thought would be firm as a rock,

A serious mistake in a nightie,

A grave disappointment all round

Is all that you’ll get from th’Almighty,

Is all that you’ll get underground.

Oh he said: ‘If you lay off the crumpet

I’ll see you alright in the end.

Just hang on until the last trumpet.

Have faith in me, chum-I’m your friend.’

But if you remind him, he’ll tell you:

‘I’m sorry, I must have been pissed-

Though your name rings a sort of a bell. You

Should have guessed that I do not exist.

‘I didn’t exist at Creation,

I didn’t exist at the Flood,

And I won’t be around for Salvation

To sort out the sheep from the cud-

‘Or whatever the phrase is. The fact is

In soteriological terms

I’m a crude existential malpractice

And you are a diet of worms.

‘You’re a nasty surprise in a sandwich.

You’re a drawing-pin caught in my sock.

You’re the limpest of shakes from a hand which

I’d have thought would be firm as a rock,

‘You’re a serious mistake in a nightie,

You’re a grave disappointment all round-

That’s all you are, ‘ says th’Almighty,

‘And that’s all that you’ll be underground.’

Please rest assured that Mr. Fenton is a Major Poet, even if the above example of his work does seem like something Eric Idle should be singing.

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