Everything pays for growing tame.
It is important to act as if bearing witness matters.
One way of ending the poem is to turn it back on itself, like a serpent with its tail in its mouth.
Here on the drawing board fingers and noses leak from the air brush maggots lie under if i should die before if i should die in the back room stacked up in smooth boxes like soapflakes or tunafish wait the undreamt of.
Love, we are a small pond.
God serves the choosy. They know what to want.