Hey God
Copilot my predator drone
keep watch over stocks may they boom
do, God, what I want
holy spots platoons watch
the target shave, kiss the sheep
off to school level ground
echo fox down
lunch at Panera Bread, co-laborers
know that somebody’s dead
I ordered chips not an apple
statues gone, limitations over baked grace like
wood glue and sawdust accept a smaller screw
a sand plantation
spirit recreation a brash commander and his men
me, my drone, and God
count to ten
