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| ← Poetry |
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God's a Data Engineer
In his image means the office workers too.
Head drooped. Each blink an occultation and black holes the circles under eyes as He
Enters each new body seven billion times and
the ants will have to wait another million years
for us to die so they can each be named.
Does he dream of when the heat death comes?
Of when He’ll retire too.
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| ← Poetry |
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