Painted lady lacquered sentence dark hold black no echos of the fall
the big bang may have been a whimper who know maybe it was God sneezing
the universe as alittle bitof nasal irritation,an irrational itch
pollen of moon flowers, idiomatic speedwell, rose, yellow rod and ivy
holy hay-fever Deus sternuit and the universe set fire.
the slide of trombones into arm bone flutes drops quietly into evolution
a ringing universe reverberating still with that almighty achoo.
God flips out his handkerchief, nothing too flashy,comic dust shaken loose
causing suns first foray into her glory in reds from pink to amber to be quenched seemingly into the sea.
So as accidents go it was pretty mundane. Not so much a mote in Gods eyes as an irritation in his snout.
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