I have a god in my pocket,
His name is “Chester”.
He likes to be stroked on Thursdays,
And force-fed plum pudding on alternating Furplesdays.
He finds it warm and cozy in my pocket,
And talks to my cock when bored –
Who he says is not the best of conversationalists,
But who he finds a match in games of logic.
Chester claims to be omniscient,
But I think he is just smug,
A condescending little bastard,
Who brags about once travelling to Phoenix.
He complains about my keys,
And the loose change in my pocket,
But fuck him –
He is, after all,
Only a god.
Gerald Lee Jordan
Diamond Harbour NZ
11 February 2013