In Poems

Status: finished

Soap bubbles float in the air in front of some trees. The sun shines through them.
Universes.

Maker

One morning the God of our universe
waved a soapy cosmic wand about himself
and dragged our stars into existence.

He stood contemplating the large bubble of light
as it undulated and shimmered,
drifting towards the edge of his vision.
He was pondering what possible futures it might have
when he was distracted by his friend Josh
who, having diligently spent the morning practicing,
proudly produced the mother of all armpit farts.
Then it was time for lunch.

It’s true. Josh never really cared much about soap bubbles.

∽ D.J.