i think it must be lonely to be god nobody loves a master no despite the bright hosannas bright dear lords and bright determined reverence of sunday eyes picture jehovah striding through the hall of his importance creatures running out from servant corners to acclaim to shout appreciation of his merits glare but who walks with him dares to take his arm to slap him on the shoulder tweak his ear buy him a coca cola or a beer pooh pooh his politics call him a fool perhapswho knows he tires of looking down those eyes are never lifted never straight perhaps sometimes he tires of being great in solitude without a hand to hold 