by One evening I met God
on a bench by the bubbling river
which divided the town.
And I asked him a question,
the most important one I could think of:
“What’s your favorite burrito?”
He seemed startled by it,
maybe even so far as off-put,
and he asked me “Why?”
I replied simply,
“Because no one else would ask you this
and perhaps you want to share.”
A (wise) man of two faces 
I like the way the poem opened and how it progressed but then the ending left me flat. I know it’s hard to come up with a ‘killer’ or at least an apt ending but tyour poem deserved better than the ending it got. But who am I to speak? Whwen I write poems I rarely use plot so I guess I take the easy way out
Thanks for the input.
The ending is a little flat but I like the idea I was going for: someone asking a personal question of God instead of asking for favors/blessings/etc and that I’m the kind of person who would look at life, religion, and God from that perspective.
Maybe I’ll write a part two someday and do it clearer/cleaner.