'I have, ' said God.
' A nice idea,
thing that could be fun.'
So he twiddled 'round
With time and space
And fuddled up the Sun.
'Now, that's quite neat! ',
He said with heat.
'I'll make a couple more.'
And he tumbled out a quantity
'Til it became a bore.
But suns put out a lot of junk
Like planets, dust and gas.
And God, with red-rimmed eyes looked >round
At all this messy jazz.
It made God twitch,
It made God sneeze,
It gave him water on the knees,
It gave Him pimples on his face.
And so, He said, 'To hell with this! '
And went some other place.
Jan Sand's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Exit Genesis by Jan Sand )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(2 November 1994)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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