Exacting the pull of pressureon the sleepless plight,the ribbed cuffs and cuffedribs of the play. Explaining each inverted colorin the old spinning yarn,in the dark dustwe know as night —
Thought is the armor you put on —beauty at each limb. The similes push over ontothe wrong train stops, (private motion of reversing).They protect you from elongated eyes,and hollow boot heels. You write, Milling around like a senator, Milling around like — rain, as loud as a nerve, as nervous as a drain.