No one is cringe to God.

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Sniff the ass, know the dog.

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America teems with quiet disciples.

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It is not too late for everything you will have ever said to be chiasmus.

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Women love the male gays.

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Humor is not meat but salt.

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You do not know yourself until you shave your head.

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Salvation lies in the cliché.

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The dog starts talking once you stop. 

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The only thing easier than sin is gratitude.

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Every day in America, someone becomes rich.

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The writer trades meekness for charity.

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Babies need no shoes.

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Boots wholly broken in: a form of happiness.

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Perhaps on Jordan’s banks the dove descended as a gull, in slow and holy spiral.

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You have not lived before editing a fiction on the toilet: hard copy, green pencil, thighs dozing off.

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I have never seen a contrail that did not send me.

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We live now in Eternity.

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You would never have chosen your own face.

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The budding pines sing their green spectrum.

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Every day, a new creature.

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Not to be my own boss but to live forever with The Boss.

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Stupidity is not a sin. 

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The first poem was in praise of God, as will be the last. 

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On earth, even the length of your shadow is unfixed.

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Forgiveness is the only apolitical response to evil.

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Santa cannot make the presents while you are on his lap.

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The animal conspires endlessly against the soul for your becoming.

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An unjealous God could not comprehend the charge of your devotion.

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The devil affords knowledge of his being only when it serves him.

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Walk through snow just laid to clean your boots right for waxing.

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Both shepherd and coyote stink of sheep.

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You can hold your own hand but needing succor will not feel to.

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Repentance reconciles paradox.