Jim Brewer Poet Narrative

Killing God

KILLING GOD

It is the receptionist, yes,
the receptionist, who calls
and gives me the news
that somewhere inside
my body a cancer cell
is floating like an angel
waiting to take me home.

I protest loudly, ask
to speak to the doctor who, 
according to the receptionist,
is not available to take my call.
I ask her what we need to do 
to kill this angel and she responds 

by calling me ignorant and says angels 
are creations of god and cannot be killed.

Wanting and needing to prove
her wrong I pull out
my revolver, embellish
the bullets with silver wings,
load the gun carefully
and spend the night

sitting in my yard 
killing all the angels

in heaven.

The next morning, when god asks me 
what I have done 
I tell him I have a permit
to continue living

and shoot him in the head.

Copyrighted
August 29, 2011
Jim Brewer

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