God picks his teeth
With a mint flavored toothpick
After a breakfast of toast and eggs
Watching the millions of  pulp universes spinning in his half-drunken glass of orange juice

Pop

A white envelope appears on the table

God furrows his brow and slices it open with a lightning bolt

His two big brown eyes scan the page

As he pulls out his pen....

Glancing out the window for a moment

He takes a sip of juice

In black ink he writes back

*Yeah, well maybe you're way too ******' emotional