Why do we trap god in a pit
Or pickle god in a glass?
Why do we think of GOD as a man
In paintings, in print, in brass? 
GOD is not human, she said to me,
god is the spaces between
God is the gravity well, the bee,
GoD is electric: the Queen.
If you scraped all the good
from human hearts
And somehow measured its sheen
that’d be the shadow, a whisper of god
just flameless gasoline.
God is remove your sandals NOW
And slap those feet on the ground
The creation of flesh, who works the plow
Struck dumb, ambered in sound.
The sum of every genius thought
The joy of every glowing heart
The power of every pent-up watt
The counter and the counterpart.
You burn your sandals now and pray
Let god unknot the macramé.