Just yesterday, I saw men stand in front of podiums with red business suits ablaze with incorrect passion. Strings on their back , and words on their shoes. Woody. Those soles have been carved by one word: morals. And those shoes are ablaze with incorrect passion. Pulling apart a union piece by piece, string by string, and the only strands left are those attached to their backs repeating flint and steel comments that replenish the firewood. Merit badge. And grow their noses the length of the nation “they love.” Puppets. Historically, a canary follows a coal mine, and now it’s in good G-d’s gold mine searching for that soul of the red business tie precious metal is found and generously placed upon the plates of children but pushed away as if broccoli. Child in a grown man’s body. Today a woman stood in front of a room and told me about invisible lines. And how soon they may be visible because the flame of business passion is stone-by stone bringing us “closer to G-d” because separate but equal is no longer history and it is apparently a mystery that G-d is just; because what I see are bible’s no longer placed in hearts but in hands only to be thrown into the fire and used to interpret the remains as if oracle bones stating that Jesus was never love and G-d is a sin because the man in red passion as he recited what he wants said so.
Raise up your arms and aim your point-and-shoot cameras (guns) at the religious text with a backdrop of love...don’t bring it into focus...3...2...1...Bang