every painting in the house is
modestly crooked due to the
twinning effects of
vibrations and moon-full
spoonfuls of gravity.

causing the tensile strength of the wires to
pensile (1) slowly surrender to point downwards.
It occurs, perhaps
it’s me that’s crooked,
but that’s just plainly
in depth insanity,
like writing a thousand poems
in one 14 day
long sitting.,
now that’s
croissant curvey crazy

nah, not me,
not totally nuts yet,
after all these years,
though not for crooked trying.