187
from manuscript
In Sleep in the Early Morning
... I had begun hearing
a voice that was mine
blent with another's
both unknown and familiar
as it said matter-of-factly
`... have a cup of coff ee
with God,' and I sat down
at the bare wood table
in the tiny and quiet
odd-angled café
while Vincent van Gogh
drew up a chair
across from me, God
there inside him,
I saw from the outset,
there and nowhere else.
And though it ended
with both a strong voice
and a text in Perpetua
saying `God exists. God exists.'
(and of course me impressed,
though I'm no believer)
the great thing was
how van Gogh and I
were both leaning forward