Raison Du Jour
Reason is like tea.
It’s best at four o’clock,
Which is an hour before cocktails
And two hours before dark.
.
.
Finding at the Door a Disheveled Man Late on a Sunday Afternoon
You don’t believe that I am Christ returned
because, you say, so often you’ve been burned
by charlatans pretending they were Me?
I say that all who say they are may be.
God’s love is not embraceable in one.
One ray is not the measure of the sun.
But then you ask, why would I return here
instead of in some holy place or near
large populations? But I say to you
I also am myself in Timbuktu
this very moment, and in Rome, New York,
Peoria, Calcutta, and Dubuque.
But why, you ask, is my return to sight
not brought forth in a brilliant flash of light
or heralded by thunder from afar
or, as before, accompanied by a star?
I say that if you don’t believe in Me,
theatrical effects won’t make you see.
I say that I have picked you out to give
you one last chance eternally to live.
If you will give me dinner and a bed
—and something spirituous to soothe my head—
I will forego what I had come to do,
which is to start the Judgement Day with you.
.
.
Gerald George has published two books of poetry: Figments and Imitations of Indonesia. His work also has appeared in numerous periodicals including the New England Poetry Review, Potomac Review, Saranac Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, and Visions International, and in four anthologies. My verse play, Bailey’s Mistake, was performed in Maine’s 2008 One-Act Play Festival. He formerly served on the editorial board of the literary journal Off the Coast. He lives in Belfast, Maine.
Gerald, these are great. As an Englishman, I had to read up on Peoria and Dubuque which are now firmly on my bucket list. That final punchline is a masterpiece. Thank you.
Gerald, I’m with you all the way on ‘Raison Du Jour’ – an hour of the serious stuff before the medicinal antidote to harsh in-your-face reality. Bottoms up to that sentiment.
‘Finding at the Door a Disheveled Man Late on a Sunday Afternoon’ is one helluva clickbait title that doesn’t disappoint – theology meets philosophy meets hilarity with aplomb. Hats off to you, Sir!