David van den Berg

i dreamed god was an astronaut

and never asked why comets smelled like moonshine.

somewhere is a network of men who don’t know how deep lonely goes.
together they bounce messages off shooting stars in search of answers
to questions they can’t ask sober.

satellites hear prayers but somewhere between reception and transmission
drop the call. perhaps evil is naught but
indifference to suffering.

i have questions
for the angels of the thermosphere. like is it true they take bets
on which hurricane will hit hardest? what is the spread and
which bank will cash them out? am i still bad from 60 miles up
or does it all make sense up there?
can i be seen at all?

hubble found god in the eagle nebula. took a picture
of the absent rocketeer with his feet up on a red dwarf
like he owned the place.
folks rushed to radio pleas his way, but that’ll just piss him off
if the transmissions block his hbo.
doesn’t matter.
a picture’s just the past and he’ll be long gone
before their prayers arrive
as only a father can.

David van den Berg grew up hunting and fishing in the swamps of Florida. He studied anthropology, religion, and archaeology. He is the Founder of Prometheus Dreaming (@prometheusdreamingmag), an online culture magazine. His poetry has recently appeared in Yemasse, South85, Poetry South, The Ilanot Review, The American Journal of Poetry, The Blue Mountain Review, Cathexis Northwest Press, Waxing and Waning, and others. His first poetry collection, Love Letters from an Arsonist, is scheduled for publication in July 2022. You can find him on Instagram @ohnonotthatguygoddamnit.