Cimera - larger
The God of Infidels
for REW
by Tricia Marcella Cimera

I am sending this letter to you,
the diligent worker in the office of
the God of Infidels.
I know it’s clean, white and sterile there.
All day long you perpetually type
little memos that say:
Nothing matters.
Who cares?
I’m no fool.
You can’t trick me.
Love is dead.
I know you read these notes aloud
before you go to sleep.
You believe every mantra word −
the heaven of protection.

You may not remember me.
I used to work in the office
three rows down
at my clean and sterile desk.
I too typed those memos.
One day I went on vacation
and met a Southsider man.
I showed him the notes −
he threw them all away!
He grabbed my hand
and pulled me into this
moon-gazing
guitar-playing
body-sighing
song-singing
tear-streaked
love-soaked
life.

I gave my notice,
turned in my key.

You need to know:
Heaven is not for the gods −
it belongs to
us.

PHOTOGRAPH: The author’s “little memo” written on the warm sand, after her metamorphosis.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This is my “I was lost but now I’m found” poem about my transformation, written with great love and gratitude for Rob Whitworth, my Southsider husband.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Tricia Marcella Cimera is an obsessed reader and lover of words. Her work has appeared in Silver Birch Press, Reverie Fair, Prairie Light Review, Downtown Auroran Magazine and is forthcoming in Stepping Stones.  She volunteers, believes strongly in the ideology of Think Globally, Act Locally, and wants you to Support Local Art because it’s important. Art is her religion; the God of Infidels has been exiled for many years. She lives with her husband and family of animals in St. Charles, Illinois, and is a member of the Waterline Writers community in sister-city Batavia.