Allah pom pom club, pyramid formed, with Vishnu, his partner, in the peace after the riot; no Mohammed not now, the meteor is wearing thin; look its Buddha with a special message.

Blah, blah, blah, man cannot live on common grace alone. So, here, comes reprobate, to write another religion.

In the seventh hour of the seventh day in the seventh month, when the moon is three fourths full. There you will see the prophet - man, once again in the tree of knowledge. Serpent slither to another ear and say the fruit of their iniquity.

Give,
take,
make
haste
while
another
is
or is not
the gist
or
jest.

Naked in the wilderness they form
a ****** ****, of eaten flesh, pondering the wisdom of the world. You know that place, the one where man goes to die.

© S. Wesley Mcgranor
2/29/18