Strange humour

What language, then speaks to me, you said, God?

With love-troubled thought, I echo to you, g? 6am

Backyard, picking grass for an angel, meowing? out the

Dark, white Aussie male twang, “yaw a-a-hh-s-ss!” – a fart?

Upon the gallows of Justice, all hung; and speaking, on

The magnanimous wind – the goddess cackles to herself