A tree grows in Homaha

There is a tree by me that is lovely beyond human measure. It is the first to bloom in the Spring and when I see its small green buds I know that the bitter winds will soon fade and sweet sun will be back soon.

It is also the first to turn golden and start the process of winter's death.

It's August 4th as I write this and today I noticed that the tree has started the early turning of fall.

All the other trees are still green and spitting specks of pollen into the air. All but this golden tree who promises the blasting heat of summer will soon be replaced by cooler, gentler winds from the north.

I want to pour gasoline on this tree and kill it. It is an abomination against nature and against God.

If it can't follow the laws of nature it should surely be dead and if someone else doesn't do it then I suppose it's up to me.

Does it think it's better than all the other trees that it has to do its own thing? Why can't it just follow along? It seems asking to be killed. Begging for it.

Well I'm the man for it. I won't have that tree laughing at us...flaunting its perversions at us and at God. No, no. I'm a man of action. Of eye pokes and handgrenades, of rum and of sin, but always good sin, honest sin, never perversion.