POEM: Tasting God


I almost tasted
In what turned out
To be
A fine guacamole
A common mistake
Well worth repeating

I find eating guacamole a .  As legend has it, when we lived in when I was a toddler, my found me under the kitchen sink eating rotten avocados.  While in college, I poisoned myself with a bad batch of guacamole.  This imprinted in me an aversion to avocados which lasted for months.  Fortunately, I have fully recovered — and then perhaps some!  Though I delight in avocados, I rarely buy them.  Mostly because I am cheap, and somewhat .  Partly, because I have so many delights in my where I can access , many of them sensual.  I suppose if hid better in my , I might have to resort to avocados more frequently.  Fortunately, my sweetheart is familiar with this highway to God, and she feeds me avocados with some regularity.  One of her many titles is “Giver of Guacamole,” though in goddess-like ineffableness she seems to resist pet names.

This poem plays with the experiencing of God as a sensual .  The almost tasted God suggests that it may be close to experiencing God, but perhaps not directly.  Of course, the “turned out to be” could mean that the mistake was in the almost.  Either way, the is well worth repeating; and if there is some mistake involved, the sheer gloriousness of a fine guacamole should amply cover any falling short.

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