(I would step outside before looki… In the end you will find Only the witness as he stands Open, bare to the world Among it, of it, a part

—sui cædere… To make way for grief A kiss neither betrayed nor swore… To king or crown, a terrible dinne… Upon which looks the lord on down… Don’t cry on my shoulder,

Deodorant sent them to space And Richard Branson, to the Moon… There’s a big box in the pores of… The stain on the void and the sile… Now, the bounced checks make round…

I like long walks on the beach, Total enlightenment, Licorice, and whisky I am one with the universe In tossing the old bocce ball