If I fail this test... well I don't know...
Perhaps I'll drop out of school and walk
Thousands of miles to start a new life
Where things are easy and nice and sweet
Like spoonfuls of sugar for mouth-bleeds.

Or maybe I'll tug my hoodie tight
And hibernate in my mobile cave,
Soundproof from the shuffling strangers there,
Because behind the walls of my mind
All I need are daydreams of springtime.

Or I might borrow a better brain
From a friend who knows a lot of things
Like how to laugh right or calculate
The speed as Train A, Train B collide.
Yeah, I think that plan would work out fine.

Unless... unless I manage to pass.
But that's just a silly thought to have.

Laying under the feather tree,
Breathing scents of serenity,
Soft down feathers come falling down
And swaddle me on fuzzy ground.
I'm fast asleep in memories
Of all the things I haven't seen,
As I stay by the feather tree.

((view horizontally on the phone))

I                        graph,                        s­ighs
    was      cosine          up         down,        and
             a                              and                            lau­ghs.


Intervals                              and
              s­lowing        peaks       troughs
                             fast,                              past
                         ­                                                  the
                                                             ­                     floor,
                                     ­                                               couldn't
         ­                                                                 ­               take
                                                            ­                             any
                                                             ­                            more
                                                            ­                                 !

                                              
                                         instantly
falling                                up
       through                swings
             infinity,     curve
                           the

So we found some green pine cones
with black spindles poking out
and a funny, fuzzy fur.

When we pulled apart the scales,  
a pungent Christmas smell
wafted from its fruity core.

Speculations ran amok
until we recognized an
unblossomed magnolia

“AHHHH!”
It softly responds, “No need to yell.”