Job’s Wife Watching from the Window
Try to construct a god
in the forest with your sticker collection.
The circular ones can serve as his nostrils.
Such stickers feature cartoon dogs
sniffing out a trail, so can’t they breathe for him?
Give the god rectangular ones
with cartoon pears when he needs abs.
Give him the triangular one
when he behaves himself.
When you complete him, he lies naked
on the dirt, the cedar branches serenading him.
They’re never as green as his fingers,
but unlike the leaves, his digits drift
away with the rest of his body
from the wind, paint
flakes that hang around after the pot broke.
The wind seems fickle, full of happenstance.
You think it has standards.