Written: Nov/24/2025
Sandy pit pockets.
A hand slid down into
a western buyer's mine.
I pray for the hate to go away.
A golden fawn walks out as a
silver hawk flies off a cactus.
The Lord commanded me:
"Relax and rest".
He has a bunch of elect that refuse
to bow the knee to the baals.
hanukkah comes but I delight
by removing all the candles.
My coworker connected with me
over our love for the
Sonic adventure 2 battle soundtrack.
That's all I needed to not quit
being a glorified
receptionist.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 7:26 PM UTC
Written: Nov/24/2025
Sandy pit pockets.
A hand slid down into
a western buyer's mine.
I pray for the hate to go away.
A golden fawn walks out as a
silver hawk flies off a cactus.
The Lord commanded me:
"Relax and rest".
He has a bunch of elect that refuse
to bow the knee to the baals.
hanukkah comes but I delight
by removing all the candles.
My coworker connected with me
over our love for the
Sonic adventure 2 battle soundtrack.
That's all I needed to not quit
being a glorified
receptionist.
A poem about surviving at my new job
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