What if God were one of us?
So strange, he's sitting in an empty
subway car with only the vacancy
of winter's evening touching the cold glass.
Does he stay on to the point at line's end
or stumble up the stairs at midtown, lost,
with cross-streets and avenues exceeding
all whispered dreams? With crystal in the concrete,
bodies in the foundation, a choked thin
troposphere above, he's finding his way home.

Steven Brodsky received his MFA from Eastern Washington University and currently lives in Long Beach, New York where he teaches at College of New Rochelle. Most recently his work has appeared in Pursuit Northwest, The Inlander, The Spokesman Review, The Bellingham Review, The Island Ear, and Wordgun. He has a chapbook published online at GO INSIDE Magazine called Woman Without a Guitar.
Email Steven Brodsky at sfbrodsky@gumballpoetry.com

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