Late Night Run

I saw God leave the liquor store last night,

it was one-thirty in the morning.

The Almighty seemed a little tired,

but who isn't at that hour?


His left hand was wrapped around

the handle of a bottle in a brown

paper bag. I wondered

what he had picked up?


A fifth of Whiskey?

Gin perhaps?

Maybe some Vodka?

Or a biblical favorite, some wine.


It took him a moment to find

the right key for the door.

He slumped in and slammed

it close. The engine sputtered.


He was on his way, but to where?

Where does God need to be

at one-thirty in the morning?

Theologians would say it's a mystery.