My Lord I sit beige and bubble-wrapped
when all my friends forsake me for jobs
in California, Illinois, Texas. When I hear
one of them got a new car, a shepherd
puppy with ears like full sails, I want to
fly to Vienna again, eat fried pork
each night and wander the hills at the edge
of town until I find the lean-to
where, years ago, I sat with my teacher,
the city lights spread like a picnic blanket
beneath us. He drank till he was blubbering
that Augustine was the most beautiful man
in history: God flowing through each word
like whitewater rapids. Can you imagine?
You can listen to a conversation about this poem on the Reformed Journal Podcast.
Credit: Alex Mouw, “My Lord I Sit Beige and Bubble-Wrapped” from The Unbelieving Yelp of Prey. Copyright © 2026 by Alex Mouw. Reprinted with the permission of TRP: The University Press of SHSU, texasreviewpress.org.
Photo by Vishnu K R on Unsplash
One Response
Thanks, Alex. I was arrested by your title and first line: beige and bubble wrapped, and the line near the end about God flowing through each word like white water rapids. Great stuff. I listened to the podcast and enjoyed your comments on how form helps us express truth. I like to write new words for familiar hymns and the form makes me say things I didn’t plan on saying ahead of time.