There’s a preacher who sets up shop on the corner of Broadway and Havermeyer in South Williamsburg on the weekends, some days with a band backing him up, some days without. Today he was working solo, and as I was walking by I swear I heard him say this:
Some folks saying, ‘God is having sex!’ God ain’t having sex, my friends. He’s simply a punitive self, into the womb.
Or maybe “putative”? Either way.