I think I've thought this thought before.
Yes. I'm pretty sure I have.
I remember it as clearly as if it were a dream.
God comes riding into town
on a steed as white as cream,
He demands to know where the hombre is
who owns an OED.
No one hesitates to tell him:
"In that there bar over yonder. Drinking tea, no doubt."
God shakes his head, dismounts,
Tells his horse to go tie himself
To the hitching post and wait.
The horse obeys. Slick trick.
The double swinging doors of the bar
Swing open.
God enters. No one looks up.
One would have expected maybe a blaze of light,
Or a rumble of thunder at least,
Anything to enhance an entrance.
But who's foolish enough to criticize God?
He works in mysterious ways. Best let it go.
God goes to the bar. He looks intently at the barkeep,
"A whiskey sour," God says.
The bartender smiles, nods, but short pours.
God takes a sip, spits it out, draws his gun and shoots the barkeep.
All the patrons applaud.
God turns his gun on the crowd:
"Where's JL?" he demands.
"Down in the basement," they answer in unison.
"Down there where the powers that be
keep the pariahs and those of too many posts,
as well as he who won't take seriously
our drunken reveries."
"Bring him forth," God commanded.
But no one moved or said a word.
O lang, lang may the maidens sit
with their gold combs in their hair
all waiting for their own JL
For him they'll see nae mair.
Sometimes even God
can't make things happen.
FREE JL. FREE JL. FREE JL
It's a chant, don't you get it? Join in: FREE JL!
Mike Geary
Memphis
