ME and MY GOD

on friday people go to the mosque,
and i go nowhere
on sunday people go to the church,
still i go nowhere
between those days i go to the whiskey bar
looking for my own transcendency

...
god is there, somewhere
...

once i tried to look for him
in every single corner of life
and i, finally found him
on the most ragged places

he was playing cards with whores
and drinking cheap alcohol with
a bunch of ugly bad smell becak men

i saw him from a distance
uncertain to walked closer
but then he turned and waved at me

'hey you, are you looking for me ?
come here, i am here, come to me.'

'what do you do here ?' i asked him

'what do you mean what do i do here ?'
he answered my question with question.

'i live here, i am belong here,
i am belong to these all lonely people'

i looked at him, amazed.
and then i realized that he does belong to all
the lonely people.

faintly i heard lennon sang :

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice
in the church where a wedding has been,
Lives in a dream.
Waits at the window, wearing a face she keeps
in a jar by the door,

Who is it for?