God’s Soliloquy After the World

All that’s left of me
is poetry
and all that’s left of poetry
is rhyme.
All that’s left of rhyme
is homophony
and all that is cacophony
is mine.

Arteries are all that’s left
of bodies
and bodies are all that remains
of the sea.
The sea is all that’s left
of the universe
and the silence of that void
belongs to me.

I am all that’s left
of joy and sorrow,
but all that’s left of joy and sorrow
dies.
Death is the remaining half
of resurrection,
and what’s no longer living
was a lie.

I’m seeking explanations
for existence,
to account for all the things
that I invent,
like nothingness, and poetry,
and substance
(none of which, of course,
was my intent).