to bite the hand that feeds flourishes the flowering at the watering spring
the hand that wills away the cloud and its cover of the sun
the hand that is sure that it will bring and is more certain of this than anything to bite until it bleeds, runs dry of its demand
and is sure of its defeat, and will not heal again
to gnaw on its sore tendons til the bone is crippled, sanded dust fragile, failing fleeting and feeding despite the wound because it's sure it can and if it can, it's sure it must
"there are times i almost think i am not sure of what i absolutely know very often find confusion in conclusions i concluded long ago in my head are many facts that, as a student, i have studied to procure in my head are many facts of which i wish i was more certain i was sure"