I wonder if every crack in the pavement
has a purpose
or if accidents are made divine
like Van Gogh’s potato eater’s chin
or the trail of a jet across a blue sky?
A woman saw Jesus in toast,
one thought Buddha conducted the river
like Mickey Mouse in Fantasia.
I don’t deny a former craving for answers
now I prefer how things fall together
in ways that look nice from a distance
real or imagined.
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