The Vapors
J W Goll
Today there is a skywriter doing loop de loops against a bright blue canvas. Jesus is Lord, then Repent and be Saved drift and blur as they float westward. A lady at the Steak and Shake looks up and says, “Amen”. Later, another plane writes, NO, chasing the earlier affirmations toward the horizon. The dialogue between these theologians is not compelling, but what religious argument ever is?
The ephemeral medium is the message, the receding words remind me my time is passing. They signal dying eras, crumbled civilizations, extinctions. The evaporating letters warn that nothing will last, everything falls apart. There they go, no longer readable, heading toward the horizon’s half-dipped sun. Finally, they disappear behind the “Don’t Wait! Get Yours Now!” billboard on Water Street.
The bottom line is blocked so who knows what they are selling, but the sign is solid and shows no sign of flight. It barks a sentiment that will surely outlast any spiritual longing or desire for salvation floating through the sky or drifting through our heads. That’s what the prophets and the holy books always miss. Faith is fine, hope has its purposes. But what we want is here and we need it before we’re scattered dust, before it’s too late. No god understands our cravings for the imperfect prize, for wretched excess, tawdry love, battered crowns, obscene dreams … holy grails all. So don’t wait for a savior, get yours now.