1457 c/o Matt DeBenedictis

The Multitasking Life of the Pope

The Pope hears God.

God’s voice sounds nothing like the Pope’s. The Pope’s voice is rather high with raspy drops and curves for words to split up and get lost in the middle of certain sentences. Often times God’s voice rushes into the bedroom of The Pope…unannounced and uninvited. Two different times The Pope has tried to imitate the voice he hears for others. Both times The Pope’s voice went away upon even attempting such a reenactment. His voice did not return for three days, both times. The second time a part of The Pope’s tour got cancelled as a result. A rescheduled date still hangs, unannounced, so T-shirt printers wait, ink ready, with anticipation lingering over their screens.

The Pope is going to die.

The Pope moves for God.

The popes that came before This Pope would wave a pen over virgin pages with violent and jerking movements. No ink would touch the paper and no movements of the pen resembled any construction of words, but still words ended up on the pages—indented and punctuated. This pope, our pope, The Pope, does not use the pen like the ones before him; he just dictates words and others write the messages of God down. No glitz and glamour for this pope, he’s got souls in the wait.

The odds The Pope will die are one out of one.

The Pope has an army.

The Pope is the commander of God’s army. The army protects The Pope as if he was actually God through air strikes, political deals, bullets, and bulletproof shields. No one else receives this honor of devotion and fortified action, unless they are The Pope. The army moves and spreads as he commands. In The Pope’s office is a modified map of the world; it’s flat and has colors representing the devotion each country holds to. The other day The Pope moved more of the army pieces into Alabama, USA. The army is on the move.

The Pope will have a funeral one day.

The Pope is much more than a man.

The Pope is a man, but much more. The Pope is a CEO but incapable of error, but he will apologize for previous popes. The Pope eats sandwiches, almost everyday—like most people, but The Pope’s sandwiches are better than any of us have ever had. At night The Pope lies down on his bed with sheets of the highest thread count in the entire world. The softness of this bed is much like God’s voice, unexplainable. The Pope likes to tell a joke to his assistant that God’s voice likes to take a nap on his bed because it’s more heaven-like than heaven.

The Pope will die in a bed like most others do.

The Pope is God’s action figure.

The Pope has the praying, waving action grips; the kneeling, kicking, and posable knees. God has him move through crowds as an encapsulated collectable. The reverence for The Pope is God’s daydream about Himself. Sadly one day the voice, the control, the power, the great cooking, and not worrying about paying bills will catch up to The Pope and he will die—slightly mad. His final days are unknown to our eyes and silent to our ears, but behind large doors and while laid upon his bed of unimaginable comfort his madness is the sign that God’s touch is one man cannot contain.

Final words from notable popes:


“The fish were the first to sin. We caught sin from them.”

Pope #42

“When I fade the mountains will praise me and damn you in the same breath.”




“A wall will be my heart”


“I could see the words before you.”


“The sky is not black, we are just beginning to die.”


“From the East we will be consumed, like wine, like tender bread. No one will remember us.”


“I crave.”


“Rain is where the devil hides his weapons.”