no atheists."well, like, i'm just saying: you can't disprove science."
several kids turned around in their desks. their bibles were pinned open, between either a palm or an elbow, the thin pages of their current verse looking up towards the ceiling.
father reinholst paused then said, "...i don't think there's any place in biology for science, jane."
every pair of eyes were boring hot little holes into jane's body. if they stared any harder she might turn into swiss cheese. "i'm not saying you're wrong, i'm just saying that maybe instead of the bible we could look at maybe...a textbook. charles darwin said-"
he held up his hand to stop her. "jane, stop. you're a smart girl. you're a good student; but this just isn't the place for science. this is an ap class. you're supposed to take your education seriously."
"science is comforting to some, but you can't prove anything with it. look under a microscope and you can see the work of God; His will is what moves water into and
Ode to Cello
you make pretty noises sometimes.
(and by sometimes I mean when I dont fuck up)
you smell like varnish.
(which is good because if it werent for the varnish youd fall apart)
you make my fingers hurt kind of a lot.
(seriously, it hurts, fucking cut it out)
in the wintertime you behave.
(except when you loosen your pegs for no reason. Bitch)
in the summertime you suck kind of a lot (lol repetition).
(what the fuck is with you and humidity? Get over it)
its cute when you snap your A string.
(im lying, no its not, cut the shit)
this stopped being an ode at the third stanza.
(its now more a list of complaints)
sometimes youre called a celli, or cello, or violoncello.
(just some cello trivia for the audience)
ive run out of things to say about you.
(no I havent, Im just lazy an