“Sacred is all relative, kid” said the wizard
and as I thought about it
what was sacred to me? Passion and passion and
The wizard replied to my non-verbalism and asked me “what are you passionate about?”
and I replied “expression”
and walked away to write a poem about how i’d met God that day
and walked away from him to write a poem
because as much as I’d love to stay and talk with the creator of the universe
he just doesn’t understand what I mean by “expression” having never learned
how to write what with his reliance on angelic stenographers
all the time.
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