When Claire, our Goddess, rose

To speak, zombies awoke.

cvalda thought a nose

Would find him foul and choke:

Did he misread the nine

As his number, forgetting

Notation's changed? That's fine,

But is a quick blood-letting

Better than rotting? Well,

A Goddess who is dead

But knows not he's in Hell

May vote and thus be fed

Right back into the torus.

Our present deity

Will never grow to bore us:

The ambiguity

Of fruit is now laid bare.

No more, for we're not there

Yet.