This is your daily apocalypse,
the regularly scheduled end of the world
created by the empty hands of men.
A hanging clock,
a ticking judge
writing in blood
drawn from the veins of a missing cloud.
What failsafe? What protection?
Will you attribute all of this to the mind of God as well?
The lights in the sky over the northwest
are part of the program;
there is no need for your consternation.
Pack up your objections and go home;
we’ll call if we need anything from you.
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