'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 )
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