Religion Has Made An Honest Woman Of

The Skirts Of The Gods Drag In Our Mud. We Feel The Touch And Take It To Be A Kiss.

The Dark Is Light Enough.

Day's Work Is Still To Do, Whatever The Day's Doom.

Indulgences, Not Fulfillment, Is What The World Permits Us.

The Moon Is Nothing But A Circumambulating Aphrodisiac Divinely Subsidized To Provoke The World Into A Rising Birth-rate