Classic Poem

Reducing the universe
to one round view
and terming it religion
is truly beyond my capacity:
compressing one's view
like a hoop
for other folk to be whipped through,
squeezing the rim so tight
that not even a gnat
could manage the hole,
requires more strength
than I have the pincers for:
beholding what one is pleased
to call God,
and greeting Him exclusively
through the monocle
of one's own righteousness—
that eye
suffers astigmatism:
I prefer to try the other.