Do it, God.
Rain in their soup.
Tie their underwear in knots.
Cover their clothes with polka dots
And fill their fridges with poop.
Make their firstborn dyslectic,
Shave their dogs and cats,
Make all the wives fat
And the husbands apoplectic.
Blight their Achievement and Development Report
And their Annual Performance Review.
All this I pray, and offer you
In pledge of my faith a cynical snort.
Go to it, God.
July 20, 2005
