Down here / I don’t know Hopkins sawinglast bow / crux and, rosined I am so happy / not MatLab at you atall, as we worship torture and so forth full of grace until one. Any poem laces ’round: fine bone bullshop *Made in Hymen* harder now, less soft, and just as dead and, alife, too. Jesus, funnyfarm you are, a perfect nothing that can come out of Nessie between/ good you and me. Shrimp Beings OShrimp BeingsSea-gulls fightingover chirps, Chirpy crawliesthey won’t let you throughShe saysit explains backpain Chirpy. Beings knifingthe backshe says soso soSo why is the seabird guffawing toogood to eat, too, too goodto be true?