Abundance Is Scooped From Abundance Yet Abundance

And The Aura Of You Remains, Remains, Remains...

Every Time I Get Happy The Nana-hex Comes Through. Birds Turn Into Plumber's Tools, A Sonnet Turns Into A Dirty Joke, A Wind Turns Into A Tracheotomy, A Boat Turns Into A Corpse.

God Went Out Of Me As If The Sea Dried Up Like Sandpaper, As If The Sun Became A Latrine.

What A Lay Me Down This Is With Two Pink, Two Orange, Two Green, Two White Goodnights.

I Have Been Cut In Two.