The Voice of God

By Vincent Antonio Rendoni 

The Voice of God says
while he speaks for Him,
he is very much not Him,
so please, don't kill the messenger. 

This makes me want to hurt him.
He is not the Brain of God,
so I think this without fear.
That motherfucker lives in Spokane.

The Voice of God
says we are not worthy
to hear the true Voice of God.

The true Voice of God,
he warns, with a whisper,
could remove our skin
from our bones,
the bonds from our cells,
the very memory of us
from this earth.

He says this between
pumping up a pack of Newports
& feeling up his cargo shorts for a light.

Everything in this neighborhood has changed,
except for him.
Same Gary Payton jersey.
Same watery eyes.
Singing that same Spinners song. 

When he finishes his smoke, he says
how about a little one on one.

I like my odds
against an uncle with a busted lung.
But never bet against
the Voice of God.

The Voice of God calls his shots.
He will beat me.
He will play with two feet.
He will move fast, then slow.
He will be where I am not.

Witness me, he says.

Witness him.

About the Author

Vincent Antonio Rendoni is the author of the forthcoming poetry collection Dead Chicano Mixtape (Red Hen Press, 2027) and A Grito Contest in the Afterlife (Catamaran, 2022), winner of the Catamaran Poetry Prize as selected by Dorianne Laux. His work has appeared in AGNI, Prairie Schooner, Ninth Letter, and The Pleiades. He lives in White Center, WA and can be found online at www.vincentrendoni.com/writer