Getting him
To comprehend
A new
thought
is like waiting around for
food to thaw.
The thought
travels
struggles
slowly
to where it
needs to go,
a long, clanking
trailer-truck on
eighteen axles
slowly
rolling its weight
up hill,
driver
squeaking his palms across
foggy windshield
staring ahead, staring
ahead, staring
into the clipped-up
illuminated
mist,
finally,
struggling,
slowly
recognizing the
ghostly
cage of ribs ahead, the
small, sad,
circular eye of
God
admidst the
ghostly clouds of
lungs ahead.