Monotheism versus Polytheism--Arkansas, boy!

   
   "Monotheism versus Polytheism--Arkansas, boy!"
  
   All of the gods exist--the determined documenting of the Talmud and Bible Itself is poetic and Hebrew-witnessed proof of that, axiomatic; moreover, King David and his wise son imported herb, spice, clean water, wine, beer, defense, chances, pure and simple health care; specifically, Nancy Reagan says:  "Just say no."  I will--to crack.  But a beer and the garden do not determine character, or if; next, poetic and attempting in the suave of survival--at the least.  
   Pictures of Freya, Nordic fixation, concerning the hue-infused vibrance of tasting colors hang in my atmosphere, like when you were a kid and craved Frankenberry cereal, got your scrotum snatched by a white-coated doc every 12 months, and had dentists drill your teeth, when they never needed to.
   Maybe love, or reverence for the American Indian, knowing at 18 years of adolescence how it feels to be in Arizona, at the witching hour, having anchored a Mustang 8-Cylinder on a dry heat surface; plus, knowing the seriously strong stare of approximately 20 Apaches, and yeah--I didn't feel like a cowboy, but a little awkward, like the intruder, and I knew I should never forget the ways of them home-grown upon this terrain, as if maybe many mixed, yet the living history of a hat's tip.
   Yet Jesus Christ hangs above the rest.  A Crucifix is wise, above all objects, in your room, having nothing greater or before Him.  Grandma always exclaimed:  "Just live your life by the Ten Commandment and forget the rest."  I guess it's that simple.
   Maybe a friend here and there.  Labor-living.  Men, whatever color--cool guys, and elegant chicks. Everybody gets shit yet has the counterpoise of a personal power source.  This country just can't simply absorb everything.  We are great--NOW.  Have mercy Uncle Sam.  The Bill of Rights does totally hang in my heart; furthermore, the Declaration of Independence hangs in my room, and a Southern battle flag with thirteen stars, but Old Glory hangs higher.  Hey, Arkansas made me the soul I am.  Nobody has more turf-forged quartz than those guys--in a way.  A place yet to be discovered by the future--in my opinion.  So yeah--God is Boss; however, an infinite number of sometimes pestering possibilities.  Jesus just seems, well--kinda extraordinary, forged in Holy Script and Spiritual Sublimity.