The next best thing to having no god, Is having too many. An infinite pantheon, divides each demigod so thin that 1x10^23 angels can dance on their belly without a god damning chagrin.
Back in the 6th grade, your name was Morrisette. It must have been 11:00 A.M. sunlight rayed into the class south-south-east, klegging through your white blouse. My eyes could only see your brassiered back. I prayed to God the nun wouldn't call on me and make me stand.
If this world has a haven would it not be more orderly to demarcate such ordinally, in place of east & west. Take Vermont, one can't crow fly one Haven to the next without flying an hour south!
Today I turned inside, walked to the plaza jardin, stood before the central well There a hangman's noose secured a ropped bale 'n bucket which I dropped into the inky dark, no splash has yet been heard.
Your walk was pure poetry, you my teacher, I your student. "Parlez vous francais?" "Non" You were a total rousse, I presumed. You'll never know how much I wanted to learn.