Postcard from a old God 

sweet pear

Missing one with some care

Attach to a soul without scrutinizing your foundation

Silver circle in the sky, green cross on your arm 

Eating, at a sensual cafe, it says that on yelp

Their barista could do with some considerable help

Red light, speed, wireless fidelity without a byte to spare

Down to the callar, for some wine and stake. discuss the demise of the shark.

Taking a breadstick in my pocket. I sigh as I leave. I notice the stark look of the man who closes up shop. Back later for his pity and maybe some plonk. 

I’m not one to pass judgement on those unpleasant men, whose bleeding makes my job so easy. Every cut taken in vain succles the essence I can tap it.

I ramble so long. You don’t even know my name. Or do you. 

Hope this card finds you well, though I rather doubt it. You know who I am by now. 

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