The God Beneath the Billboard
An Atheist Poem About America and the Open Road
I drove past five churches before dawn,
each cross backlit by halogen.
Their lots were empty,
their signs still flickering Jesus Saves
between vape shop ads and payday loans.
***
A deer crossed the median—
rumor of muscle and frost.
I slowed, saw my own reflection
in its eyes—tired, bright,
absolved by nothing.
***
The radio preacher promised mercy
for a monthly draft.
I turned him off and listened
to the hum under the tires,
the psalm of distance.
***
Out here the air smells
like diesel and thawing earth.
The fields say nothing back.
I count the stars like loose change
and wonder what’s worth keeping
in a world this wide and uninterested.
***
I light a match. Watch it shudder.
Set it in the gravel—
one flame,
still choosing
to burn.
***
If there’s a god out here,
he’s sleeping in the ditch,
face half-buried in frost,
breathing slow as roadkill steam.
***
There is nothing out here to find.
The wind moves whether I move or not.
Nothing in the universe gives a fuck what you believe.
That’s the mercy of it.
About the Creator
Fatal Serendipity
Fatal Serendipity writes flash, micro, speculative and literary fiction, and poetry. Their work explores memory, impermanence, and the quiet fractures between grief, silence, connection and change. They linger in liminal spaces and moments.
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Comments (2)
Very interesting. As someone involved in my church, but who goes more for the community, I can feel how this poem resonates.
I’m not committed to atheism, but definitely see the appeal. I’m mostly agnostic so I think we’ve got some overlap. Anyway, this poem is perfectly executed. Word choice and rhythm are both flawless, and the emotional impact is absolutely compelling . Reads like a cool criticism of neon churches and on lives so fixated on belief they forget how to live