her agnostic lover paid the rent.

peddling its sham like ways, its unconscious molecule
a path to .

some other tree, of spent garbles and manufactured


'He gives us twelve or thirteen versions of the death of God, for good measure and to be done with it, so as to render the event comical. ANd he explains that strictly speaking this has no importance whatever, that it merely concerns the latest Pope; God dead or not dead, the father dead or not dead, it amounts to the same thing, since the psychic repression
(refoulement) and the same social repression continue unabated, here in the name of God or a living father, there in the name of man or the dead father.

Nietzsche says that what is important is not the news that God is dead, but the time this news takes to bear fruit.'

A/O 106

Turning to herselves the girders, she whips the eyelash
counting back the staves of her money,
her garish hips near my neck. Love, love,
she calls, it. Love.

Agnostic. Dead Agnostic. Dead.

And doctor God is a Lobster. So.
Stick your Tongue out.