I humbly request
you trascribe a what is,
but it is truly open
a feeling that belongs to another shared out of love
We also fail to forget
whenever you drop candy
I rush to grasp
and feel foolish
at my misleading moans
and curling toenail
snails, snarling
at the house of plenty
Serving pan cakes
And pandora's sock drawer
tells me the story
of Jesus
Would you like to buy my bible? Only
fifty-million Indians worth...
Answer "would"
Only if slack is an unprofitable illusion
You are in the clear clean as a whistle
if only I knew anything.