Beautiful Beaches

I'm thinking of sunsets and palms and my main girls dressed like savages. How wonderful.

The Pope Is Dead

He was killed this morning when his plane

clipped the wings of an archangel & crashed
into some tasty boarding surf outside Honolulu.

Heaven is in real time. Eternity seems like the present.

Wild grass skirts fly round on native hips.
Nets & fish flip in hollowed canoes.

The Pope owns an island on a whale's back.

His feet look as though he still lives.
The blood of Christ spews from the blowhole.