Room 111

Come and gather round, for
you are about to witness my great gift.
given to me by God,
God has come and touched me,
blessed me, and through my words is God himself.

God has chosen me,
“it is time,” he says, to let all you hear again
the words we are forgetting.
It is time to relearn, it is time for rebirth.

If I wrote down right here and now
words that come to me from God
would you read it?
Would you believe me?
God says, “believe, have faith in
her who I have chosen.”

I am in room 111 and it’s twelve O’clock.
Time for lunch now,
Henry counts 1...2...3, 1...2...3.
Deborah picks up phones,
she says “no Robert isn’t here right now,”
and Robert blows his nose.

Have faith in my fallible human words!
I am saying with no lying
tongue that I have seen the almighty
and he has spoke to me.
Here is the book I have written -
my hand was grabbed by the lord and
forced on these pages.

Why do you keep me here,
room 111?
Do you not already have one book
from dear God?
Why not take the sequel?

You say a merely mortal human could
never speak with God,
you say my head is wired wrong,
chemicals run through veins of brains
right, in others wrong.

You say you will never have faith
in the book written by a
crazy at the schizophrenic zoo.
But you don’t even know it,
you already do.