When revelation comes, the God of Draperies 
Cannot decide the difference 

Between in and out. 
A patio is out though in a yard, he thinks, 

Nursing his ignorance 
And a mostly gone Tom Collins, 

The sunshine and the cicadas and the loveliness 
Competing for his rage. 

But a car is out? So what about a swizzle stick? 
Out of the box but in the drink, 

Then out of the drink and in the mouth. 
A little bit in and out, he thinks, the vinyl slats 

Of the ancient chaise lounge 
Stuck to him 

Like bacon to a slice of Wonder Bread. 
And the soul is in? And heaven is out? 

But when the soul is 
Out, is it then 

In heaven? 
Time for another 

Drink, a tall one, but only half. 
Which is the way it is, he thinks, 
         
With gods and worshippers and revelation; 
No one is ever sure 

Exactly who 
Has been revealed to whom.