Eleven seats of a multi-faced deity, where, on the one seat it chews a gum, on the other he spits a bubble, and on the many others she crumples bubblegum wraps.
Messages, thrown like tantrums, would hit the base and stick. Down he came and gave those children a lick, very much in tandem indeed with their mothers; but the thrashing he did with many a back of his hand.
And lo! A slap like a thunderclap. How they bore the mark. As it is with a strikethrough set astraight by a wave of a hand, a pen, or a woman made for every one.
Eyepatched on the one eye, a hand to match, he was dressed festive for the advent of a blind man, and even more festive was he for the receipt of a handicapped with a warm welcome.
For it is warm already there where the fire that burns doesn't let up.
As to the ones who brought up the rear in the file that ran up to the heavens, they made sure to learn how to catch up.