Pleading for a purchased god Romanticized for its ancien régime Celiac, and yet I licked the wheat paste Of the letter I was was trimmed A4
In all that time spent by the basin (and its traffic-trimming wetlands) I only rode my bike to the depot To color code my calendar
When capital kept its calls collect, When the gravy train kept me idle Each chamber would be emptied Fruitlessly: punch drunk with praise
(Indulge a little)
Each from four through five: orchestrated The plains always claim the sixth (Respecting the tradition of western folk) Only three will ever threaten treatment
A stream-of-consciousness bout of grief over a gravy train and the threat its indefinite departure presents.