uninvited

i was at a corner table

obscured by overcrowding

everyone was shrouding the stage

 

a band played

the lead singer’s soothing voice

sounded scottish

venerated by pale skin and black hair

 

everyone was there for her

except me

 

the seldom seen waitress

had lined up three

as i didn’t know when she

would be back again

 

three beers and my flask of gin

and i was where i wanted to be

alone

 

old acquaintances on social media

had directly addressed my disbelief

 

i didn’t respond

but i thought it odd

 

that they talked to me

like a wayward child

and not as someone

who has painstakingly concluded

that there is no god

 

and i realized these people

i never see

have nothing in common with me

 

that this is where i’d rather be

outside the sphere

of their searing scrutiny

 

a thought came to mind

i pulled out my tiny notebook

and pen

nipped at my gin

 

and wrote the only question

i really need answered,

 

“if there is a creator

and this immense universe

is the work of his hand

 

evidence of a being with

unimaginable power

then why at this very hour

can’t he fix our lives

 

if he is so powerful

and we so powerless

why does he allow our lives

to be the sum of our choices

or the choices of others?

 

all your answers, reasons,

and rationale

make god seem so petty

 

the extract of our existence

is evidence that it is more

plausible that god

just doesn’t exist”

 

i hadn’t noticed the band

was taking a break

until a form took shape

and inhabited the empty chair

at my table

 

it was the lead singer

who seemed confused

and even less amused

by my indifference

to her performance

 

she picked up one of my beers

and began to drink

but in the awkward silence

i couldn’t think

of anything to say

 

my tab was already paid

so i left the bar for

the dark streets of decay

 

***