I am waiting at the cosmic DMV
for God to call my number
and over the intercom decide
that it is now my turn.

Documents in hand I approach
the counter and am turned away
for an inexplicable reason,
to the back of the line.

The pastor uses the joke to talk
about the end times. Wait patiently.
Deliberately. But from the pew
I cannot help but scoff

as my friends have weddings
and children while the world
explodes in bombings and
loneliness. When is it our

turn to be happy?