Poem: Sagan’s Apple Pie

Make something from scratch

Make it with your hands

Well

First you’ve got to have hands don’t you

First

We must invent the universe

The earth

The sky

The air

The space in-between the stars

Apples, pomegranates,

Forbidden fruits

Humans make what they will of

Themselves and their sins

Name it and it shall be

Nothing ever exists until you believe

and

It disappears when you aren’t looking

If you want to make a life

You need to make a soul

You need to invent

Heaven

Earth

And

Hell

To make anything mean anything

At all