God Moves In Neurodivergent Ways
I’m glad that God’s got ADD.
I’m glad, whatever plans she’s laid,
She’s never done, and nothing’s made
But in the process, constantly,
Of being made in front of me.
All her half-done work, displayed
In interactive art arrays.
I’m glad, whatever plans she’s laid,
She’s never done, and nothing’s made
But in the process, constantly,
Of being made in front of me.
All her half-done work, displayed
In interactive art arrays.
I’m glad that God’s got ADD.
That what is pleasing, to the Lord,
Will quickly shift as she gets bored.
She’ll look upon her work and say,
“Crabs! I’ll just make crabs today!”
And, though she made the crabs before,
She’ll then fixate on making more.
I’m glad that God’s got ADD.
It leaves me somewhat reassured
That my work here can be like hers,
With both of us completely free
To pause our play indefinitely,
But, at the same time, both still barred
From just abandoning our Words.
About the Author
Neil Rhind came to Edinburgh to study literature, but they made him leave university after passing his viva. He has contributed to The Scottish Literary Review, The International Review of Scottish Studies, the International Journal of Scottish Literature, and other publications that don’t read like variations on the same three words. He was recently anthologised in Spectral Lines: Poems About Scientists [Alternating Current Press], has a piece forthcoming in Eemis Stane, and served as Bard in Residence for the Beltane Fire Society.