Cocksure sneer, the ones becoming
Manifold supple surplus and such
Sanitised in filthy halls
Behoved to scrub and felch the crevice
Then pen their thoughts in certain terms
Adhering to strictures that do not rot prettily

Awfully now on Bambied legs
Parading paramount smiles beguiling 
Their every move decided and guided
Every filled in monitoring form
Not for nothing they endure
Their failing hearts squeezed of impurity 

Bamble bomble on they jaunt
Though failing, still they cooly flaunt
Drawing onlookers with a forced depth 
Of perception and peril still
Kiss to kill, desks strewn with bills
Sauntering surely past your summer sill

———————————————————

God chose the chosen, and chortled at the cheese. With a brief inhale he wheezed, then sipped another drip of potcheen. ‘God, this is hard work, isn’t it?’ He spoke aloud. Gripping then the pen that had lately replaced his quill, he began poking holes in a brown envelope addressed to heaven. Prayers rained down upon his hairy head, so he took another sip. Can’t put off what needs to be done, it’ll catch up with the man eventually. It was time he settled down to providing some vague, promising answers.

Paul,

         Your wife is never coming back. Why not try online dating? Or look about a dog? These suggestions found wanting, please invest heavily in strong waters, and give your own good head peace.

                     Regards,
                                   The Big Man

God stretched yawned and drank, heavily. Then dictated to his many winged minions, allowing himself an evening relaxed, free and careless.