I met him in an empty house
his wife had died last May
now he’s got cancer of the mouth
refusing treatment they say

do you have faith he asked me straight
I said I’m sorry no
he asked how I live in such a state
with nowhere for my soul to go

he told me the tale of a man who died
his wife knelt down to pray
and when the ambulance stopped outside
the man was quite okay

‘all of it perfectly documented
the miraculous power of prayer’
he asked if I was interested
I said I was, to be fair

‘the rapture is almost upon us!’ he said
Jesus is close at hand!
don’t be one of those left for dead!
ascend to the promised land!

when the end times finally come
the sinful will lament
as the saved all rise in number
roughly ten percent’

I wanted to hear him answer
why God had to be so rough
why God had given him cancer
but I wasn’t brave enough

whatever brings you serenity
stories of a fierce dictator
or surrendering your identity
and falling back into nature

whatever. it’s all just weaving
working the warp and the weft
I said we’d be back next evening
shook his hand warmly and left