God's Work
by A.H. Salazar
On a two-lane parkway
the white Mercedes cuts me off,
conquers the road, a real jerk.
Tonight, I don’t chase; the rain
maybe? Or the tone of it all.
Ease off throttle, switch lanes, hang back.
We’ve been talking about god
in the evenings, in between
essays. We agree god
acts through us, just
like sin. You tell me
self-hate insults god’s
love, say that your belief
is tainted.
The coyote: Flash white
in my headlights, total
commitment, already half-
way, already crosses
my lane, already I know;
the Mercedes, I’m waiting
for a sound, I see
the body, already dead, eyes
already closed.