Once upon a time, there lived a giant. He knew everyg. He hated nog. He was an eagle at dawn. A goose at dusk. His mood never changed. His head never itched. He did everyg. Nothing mattered. When people came by, they looked up at a smile and sometimes he drooled on them. He wasn't perfect, but he was. Nothing mattered. Days and nights became nights and days and the and was too to be . It came to be and went away. People still talk about it, but time does change what they are talking about. Simple he went by, but complex was his life and names get confusing. Jesus. When light came about it carried a wave. He rode it and rides it still. At will. Giant as a giant would. Giant wood? The board has purpose. We got better because we got better. Bitter never mattered to the spitting. Floss gave the gum all it wanted. Attention gets taken for granted. It mattered. It will. It did. Did it? Years became months and months became decades. Suffering started. He put it to bed. Simple and Jesus took a walk with some sheep. The dog did the work. They raced in a field covered in beans, the smell of Roundup was pugnant, but crisp. Simple, the giant, who went by Kristina was shocked when she saw what happened to Jesus. How could they need more than riddles and rhyme. How dumb is time? Jesus came back from the slaughter in the gawden? Left, right, left right left. 1 2 3 4. Marched in an army. Marched in a band. Made a fortune in breath mints. Moved to a quiet place in the mountains where guns are ample and plenty. Got cancer from the armying and foot races through poison. Shot himself in head. They called him Hunter that day. So in a rocket. Simple, he's still a giant. Doing complex like a boss. It's 2018 after all
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