Sometimes he feels that if an autopsy were done on him now,
If he were cut open like a package left at the door,
He would be all packing peanuts, and strips of old newspapers
And a tiny little globe of the Holy Ghost,
As if the Father packed the gift in a too big package.
The expanse of his emptiness demands to be filled,
And his prayer is that Enough would eliminate the Clutter
Of Nothing, that the manna collected in advance would not be missed.
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