Howard Firkin
God loves the ugly, awkward things,
unshiny crawling things.
God loves the mud.
God loves the film of dust, the cobwebbed corners.
Auks and dodos fire love in God as thrilling as the fall
of peregrines on pigeons;
woodlice, millipedes, and things without a common name,
God loves.
The things that move like slime in current are admired;
things whose flesh seems barely to coagulate
are treasured, bring delight, are myrrh.
Things of the night,
things thought of in the night,
things brought to being in the night of other beings,
dark warm soft unholy things, things of no light;
God loves the ugly, awkward things.