The urine in the trough flowed freely.
The stench in the pigsty was awful, but the wisdom was that there will be pretty things that sparkle.
"That is a stream that sometimes shares its color with the sun," said the government official.
"Only when the light returns," said the oracle. "And it reeks no less."
The prisoners in the parking lot pointed to the sky.
"What are you listening to?" asked the spy. "I hear nothing."
"Hello people," said King Midas. "I like winning."
Indeed, King Midas, everything is golden now.
For winning makes a golden calf, but brings no meat to the table,
And bread alone is outrageous.
The prisoners in the parking lot, the face of malnourishment.
Noli me tangere echoes a Latin Jesus.
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