A stirring rendition by orchestral digestive specters, little poltergeists wielding bows against heartstrings; play on, little daemons! Make music that grinds the brain to a halt, resolute and unyielding. Sphere of Severity, for which one pillar of the Tree of Life is named, burn! Be the coal in my gut; I'll fan thy flame to ashes - firm in my lust to speak against. For in my years I have learned that it is suicide to do aught but listen to my belly - who knoweth better than I ever will - exactly when it is the right time for me to say no.
Thanks to Brandon Barnes, the formatting of whose excellent poem "Ode To Tom Waits" (http://hellopoetry.com/poem/ode-to-tom-waits/) so reminded me of a hexagram and inspired this shapely piece.