The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, June 1922
God
God.
I have seen God on Lambton Quay;
He strolled along the road,
And gazed about him curiously
In very cheerful mode.
A motor nearly knocked him down—
The driver swore at him,
(He didn't know that it was God
Fenced round with Cherubim)—
Nobody knew that he was God,
They were all Business Men
Bound to the G.P.O. or Bank
And back to work again.
They didn't have time to look at God,
He wasn't a Business Man;
He didn't care about stocks or shares,
Or the way their offices ran.
The pretty girls they passed him by—
They were all going to tea,
With nice young men to eat and drink
And talk vivaciously.
And so he wandered on and on
Humming a little tune
That Gabriel had once composed,
Singing to the moon.
He loitered at the corner till
A policeman on his beat Said:
"Move on, please; now then, old man
This isn't all your street!"
I thought, now God he won't like this.
For men to let him go
Unnoticed through their noisy town,—
He's never treated so
In Heaven, I'll bet; but here men swear
When he gets in their way,
When everyone by rights should fall
Down on their knee? and pray.
Surely his wrath shall rise, and we
Will be consumed: his eye
Shall lightning's dart; his thunderbolts
Shall hurtle from the sky!
We are a faithless people; shame
Is ours! God will do well
To blast that policeman where he stands,
To plunge us all in hell!
Now is the time that men shall feel
The scorpions of his rod—
God opened wide his mouth and laughed—
" It's a queer world! "said God.
C. U.