Larry Brody’s Poetry: ‘I Asked God A Question The Other Night’

by Larry Brody

kidhollywoodcovercoyotecaptureNOTE FROM LB: 

An honest poem about an honest issue and a question asked by a man who may or may not be honest, by whom I mean…me. Writing this never felt like a risk, but posting it here, ah…this is much tougher than I thought it would be. 

I Asked God A Question The Other Night

I asked God a question the other night.

I figured it was pretty important, so there

Was no point in messing with angels or

Emissaries or any of the other lowdown

Heavenly truck.

“God,” I said — I always call Him God. Yahweh

Seems kind of limiting. I mean, what if the

Buddhists, or the Mohammedans are right?

You wouldn’t like some guy calling you by your

Arch-rival’s name, would you? And since

We’re in God’s image…well, you know the drill.

“God,” I said, “I need the skinny. My

Whole life’s gonna be based on the results of

This conversation, so we’re talking the real

Deal, you hear? So, God,”

I said, “if I do what those who love me

Think I can, if I be who I really be — am who

I am — no cheating myself, no fakery, no

Personalities splitting off into lies,

If I do this, God, will I live?

Or will I die?”

See, I remember years ago, when we

Made this pact. Being fresh, and green,

And hopeful, I got God to agree to a bargain.

He wouldn’t take me until I’d achieved my

Purpose on earth, until I’d done

What I’d been born to do.

I figured that would give me plenty of

Time to work it all out,

But it’s been twenty-five years since

That particular talk, and my

Hair’s turning white, and my muscle tone

Is shot, and hard ons go even faster than they

Come, and I’ve avoided my purpose

With a will, and a wile, and a vengeance

That’s supposed to be His.

So if I were Yahweh, or Allah, or even

Zeus, as a matter of fact, I’d be pretty

Pissed off, and I’d follow the letter of my

Law. Which means the minute this lying

Coward I really am became who he was

Supposed to — wham, harder tack time,

Baby. Eternal sleep.

(So, anyway, and all that), I asked God the

Big Question, about the fate of Number One.

Should I get down to business? Was it safe?

Would I still have a few years

For my body and its parts to get softer still?

Now I don’t know about you, but generally

Speaking God answers me. No signs, or

Signals, no burning bushes or

Open-ended events, but the real thing,

Genuine auditory hallucinations, brought on

By a burning imagination, a feverish need,

A belief in a reality that hasn’t existed

Since the last year B.C.

“God,” I said, “if I am who I am, will I die?”

And God’s voice shook my bed,

Thunder and lightning clashed in my head.

“Stop being an asshole!” was what He said.


Larry Brody is the head dood at TVWriter™. Although the book whose cover you see above is for sale on Kindle, he is posting at least one poem a week here at TVWriter™ because, as the Navajo Dog herself once pointed out, “Art has to be free. If you create it for money, you lose your vision, and yourself.” She said it shorter, though, with a snort.