John Biscello

We’ve heard rumors that God doesn’t know he exists. She exists. It. Whatever the gender or genderless you get the picture. God doesn’t know there is such thing as God that he is this thing we call God this blessed hunk of bright rock candy savored by longing mouths. No one told him. She doesn’t know. Someone we don’t know who someone suggested that it is our duty our sacred task to remind her Hey God you are God you are this explicit thing we call God who gives us this day and all days our daily core our be all end all edness. How to make God understand she is there an impact with no strings attached. God might receive us and say There is no God or God who exactly when she finds herself confronted by a roving needy tribunal and this not done out of spite malice amnesia or anything of the sort but simply because rapture doesn’t call itself rapture its voice voices rapture doesn’t spell out r-a-p-t-u-r-e in claims nor does long deep sorrow go around infatuated with its past and riff upon itself as a phrase. We as selves conscious of ourselves become conscious of God as name God as yin God as yang God as yo-yo God as bright rock candy from a distant gift shop. Another lost one of us speculated that even if God was told who she was she wouldn’t hear you because God is All Ears and All Ears cannot hear themselves in a name repeated endlessly. All Ears is mirrorless in its tune ins its listening. If God wakes up to the glittering hard candy fact that she exists as this thing called God worlds would truly truly move away from themselves in ways unimaginable. At least this is what was suggested by one of us long since defected now trespassing freely whenever wherever.