Ok, Cupid, stab me!

I've been told that
I should open a
Foot massage/tarot card reading/
Iced soy cream parlor
Complete with small room in
Back where random kitchen
Gadgets (such as George Foreman
Grill versus Jack LaLanne's Juice Tiger)
entertain
Vague lurking gentlemen
Behind a stained velvet
Curtain

If that is so
Then perhaps
God
In all of his anthropomorphic
Power
Could create a boulder so
Mighty/massive and heavy
That he himself
Would be unable to lift it

For surely we are the
Generation of the
Final trumpet and seventh seal
The chaotic child beasts
Of an electronic world
Wired with slobbering snarl
While clutching the dagger
Of indifference
In our Apocalyptic teeth

©2008 Tim Murray