“Listen here buds”
I’m not going to
**** around
or hold back
or try to even the score
and in return
“Don’t **** with me”
“moooore”*

This is an ode to ol' Stuart
Or Brandon
Or Stubacca
Or Bongshit
Whatever you want to call him
Call him it
Conflict
Resolution
Resided
In Penta rips
I reminisce
Too **** often
That’s what I am here to admit

I guess that is the purpose of this poem
Is to make all the apologies
I left unsaid
And to leave all the unsaid
slights behind

Because in my mind,
I was not a good roommate
And you weren’t either
But our insult based arguments would deflate
Recognizing we were both underachievers
Two ******* calling the kettle black
Denzel Washington Movies
And Back
In Quail
Room 1514
Was a “Kozy Shack”
Was not for the weak
Lungs
The haziest of all hostels
A blaze fest
A Bro-out Brothel
"OB Get the ******* door!"
"And don't forget to lock and towel"
Escape from the real world
Into the mythical Qualcation

The Adherol - know it alls
3 Pills of dex – 45 minutes crushed text
Book and and back when we were hooked
  “This **** is just like doing M”
Thank christ for all your friends in MGMT
As it didn’t stop you from copying them
Mr. Rintoul had bigger fish to fry

And I was frying them
because the kitchen was foreign
So at 4 in
The mornin’
I’d be cookin’ creative
Broke *** creations
Cause stomach pains
Are a serious disease

Please
Don’t take
This poem
The wrong way
Because back in the day
Are the days I miss the most
We played host
To a family of friends
Anyone would want to boast

Thank you for reminding me it was your birthday
Every ******* year
Every elaborate party
You deserved
No Hissy fit was unwarranted
Speaking on behalf of a floor Matt
You know the one you parented
The upmost respect remains
For papa Stewie

And when I got my dewy
I got a few hugs of sympathy
While you laughed in my ******* face
And when you couldn’t find a roommate
I happily took that place
And when I left movie night in the trailer
To go do slam poetry at a talent show
You made me feel so out of place
And when I returned with my 100$ winnings
You were the first person I bought a pilsner case

The fact that you never made the break through
To see the majority of the time
We were laughing at you not with you
Doesn’t seem to be an issue
Because maybe you did know all along
Staying in check
Punishing us
stoner massages
That could break necks

Now these days with a real job that really pays
Stuart Rintoul will still tell you he is LiViN’
Even - If he is stuck in Edmonton
This separation
“Is horseshit”

Let me state it one last time old pal
This poem is not meant to offend
And deep down from Roses to the Corral
I hope you bang all my ex girlfriends

I should have never left you all those times for *******
Or in the words of Tuner “PP!”
I should have stayed and watched Blade 3

To all those
who really knew Stu
It was really me
eating all the peanut butter
by the spoon
But blaming it on you
Was too opportune

Stu,
You are
******* clutch
******* decent
And so ******* “chitty”

You were the best friend
I should have never asked for
And for this
I will never
**** with you
Any
“mooooore”

I've been going right on, page by page,
since we last kissed, two long dolls in a cage,
two hunger-mongers throwing a myth in and out,
double-crossing out lives with doubt,
leaving us separate now, fogy with rage.

But then I've told my readers what I think
and scrubbed out the remainder with my shrink,
have placed my bones in a jar as if possessed,
have pasted a black wing over my left breast,
have washed the white out of the moon at my sink,

have eaten The Cross, have digested its lore,
indeed, have loved that eggless man once more,
have placed my own head in the kettle because
in the end death won't settle for my hypochondrias,
because this errand we're on goes to one store.

That shopkeeper may put up barricades,
and he may advertise cognac and razor blades,
he may let you dally at Nice or the Tuileries,
he may let the state of our bowels have ascendancy,
he may let such as we flaunt our escapades,

swallow down our portion of whisky and dex,
salvage the day with some soup or some ***,
juggle our teabags as we inch down the hall,
let the blood out of our fires with phenobarbital,
lick the headlines for Starkweathers and Specks,

let us be folk of the literary set,
let us deceive with words the critics regret,
let us dog down the streets for each invitation,
typing out our lives like a Singer sewing sublimation,
letting our delicate bottoms settle and yet

they were spanked alive by some doctor of folly,
given a horn or a dish to get by with, by golly,
exploding with blood in this errand called life,
dumb with snow and elbows, rubber man, a mother wife,
tongues to waggle out of the words, mistletoe and holly,

tables to place our stones on, decades of disguises,
wntil the shopkeeper plants his boot in our eyes,
and unties our bone and is finished with the case,
and turns to the next customer, forgetting our face
or how we knelt at the yellow bulb with sighs
like moth wings for a short while in a small place.

It is was this which teaches
Taught me
Ambi
Dex
Terity,
Though of
Left hand
Teeth
Tooth-brushing
My knowledge is rough;
It was is those these
Sunny
Dusty
Sunny afternoons in the sun,
The sun at the right angle
Angled towards me,
But not in my eyes
And the black
Fabric
Black, even in the sun,
As a field against which the
Sun angled out of my eyes
Shines
Shone
Sunny directly on my hands,
To which advantage
My advantage,
Or yours,
Would allow me
To pluck with tender
Specific
Tender care
Each thin blonde thin hair on my knuckles.
I already have will always doubt that you notice
Or notice that I notice you don’t, you never notice;
I notice you noticing me noticing you not noticing
My perfect,
Thin-blonde-thin, blonde-hair-free knuckles.

aix, beck's, becks, blech's, checks, cheques, czechs, dec's, decks, dex, eckes, eques, ex, fecks, flecks, flex, heck's, hex, jex, kecks, lecce, lex, meckes, mex, necks, nex, next, peck's, pecks, plex, rex, sheck's, shek's, specks, specs, sphex, tech's, techs, teck's, tex, treks, vex, whelks, wrecks, x, x. amex, ampex, annex, apec's, apex, armtek's, avtex, aztecs, berlex, caltex, cemex, centex, cmx, comex, complex, comtrex, convex, crownx, defex, dissects, duplex, effects, ejects, entex, execs, expects, eyetech's, fanech's, fedex, finex, gatx, gtech's, inmex, intex, latex, memtec's, metex, natec's, nobec's, nymex, nynex, objects, onex, opec's, paychecks, paychex, pemex, perplex, pewex, playtex, portec's, projects, qintex, quebec's, railtex, rednecks, reflects, rejects, respects, roughnecks, scitex, simplex, starplex, steinbeck's, subjects, suspects, syntex, telex, telmex, tenrecs, timeplex, tridex, trintex, triplex, truex, vertex, visx, wall-tex, wedtech's, westtech's adaptec's, ametek's, atx, banamex, between decks, biotechs, bottlenecks, cineplex, cybersex, cytotechs, datarex, discotheques, equitex, eurochecks, gendrisek's, genentech's, govpx, hyponex, intellects, intersects, kaisertech's, malcolm x, medarex, mediplex, megaplex, memorex, methanex, metroplex, middlesex, multidex, multiplex, neorx, oraflex, pillowtex, prentnieks, rolodex, stratoflex, superx, symantec's, teleflex, turtlenecks, unisex, ventritex adaptaplex, ameritech's, audiotex, begonia rex, ****** simplex, solar apex, videotex, tyrannosaurus rex, regression of y on x

They came with their capsules,
killed me with
dex spansules,
and I
sped away,
Faster than light that plays in the sky,
I ask myself why
I
ask
myself
why.

Take a look at all these stories.
Every detail marked in delicate pencil.
Inventory, backstory, spells per day.
You wrote these character sheets.

You put the devil's **** in their pockets.
Keen rapier on their hip.
Their numbers clasp fingers like chain mail.
You wear it like a valiant knight.

You look like an infant covered in pots and pans.
Clanging
Babbling
Holding colander to your head playing make believe.
It doesn't even fit you right.

This armor you made yourself doesn't even fit you right.

What are you if not a knight?
What are you if not an infant?

You've fought dragons, finished quests.
Conquered battles you didn't even want to fight.
At the end of every session you collected your experience and said "See ya next week!"
This session doesn't end.
You can't just stop rolling dice.
Have to keep playing.

Drink the +5 energy Brown Liquid.
Roll to see if your car starts.
Perception check to see if you hit that baby in a stroller.
Roll charisma to try and get a discount on that Pair of pants.
Nailed it.
You didn't check for traps in this relationship.
Take 15 heart damage.
Spend the next six months trying to recover.
You are noticed by a woman.
Roll initiative.
The girl goes first.
She tells you she loves you.
You're knocked prone.
She gets an attack of opportunity on your ability to sustain relationships.
You wonder why you wandered down this alley to begin with.
Roll for Charisma Burst.
It succeeds.
She is stunned.
You run.
Double your move speed.

Burst into the town bar.
You ask for quests.
They give you whiskey.

Your vision is slightly blurred
You wake up in strange place.
Roll a perception check.
It's an unfamiliar small apartment.
Your clothes seem to be by your side on the ground.
Roll me a knowledge check.
The apartment of some girl you hooked up with last night.
Your eyes peek up from the pillow and see a beautiful...
Man.
You did not roll very high on your knowledge check.

Roll dexterity to gracefully get up from the bed and leave quietly.
It fails.
You fall flat on your face to a loud THUMP sound.
The man wakes up and smiles down at you.
Roll initiative.
You go first.
You run out of there
Double your move speed.
Roll another Dex check to see how much of your stuff you were able to grab.
You snag your bag but you never bothered to put your clothes on
So you're running down the street in your boxers with a black backpack.

Roll perception to take inventory of your backpack.
You have a change of clothes that you packed for the next morning.

Socks +5 comfort
Boxers +5 freshness
Pants +10 decency
Shirt +2 Stain.

Your laptop and chargers are all in there.
You can't seem to find your phone.
Spend a luck point to reroll perception to find your phone.
Fails.
Spend another luck point to reroll perception to find your phone.
Fails.
Spend your last luck point to reroll perception to find your Oh, thank god.
You found your phone.
Call a cab
Get the hell out of this town.
Roll effectiveness of taking this shower.
Drink the +5 energy brown liquid.

There's no "That was a great session guys!"
"Congratulations! You slew the dragon! You all get 500 experience points!"
"See you all next week."

You just keep rolling.
And rolling.
Until one day it all stops.
You roll poorly,
Encounter something way above your level.
You can run.
Find a healer.
Get home, take a full rest.
You can't just make another character sheet.
There's nobody to look at your scraps of paper.
All the characters you rerolled to be who you are now.
Bits and pieces of all the wars, quests, dragons.
They're you.
Remember them,
Learn from them.
Keep rolling.

Taken from a sentient, spit forth and proceed. Like the hangnail that hung until you ripped it off, then told it about what happened. What ... what would happen in the coming months. Try to distance it: a runner in the coldest part of warsaw. The image that serves as the vessel through which I breathe, test tube attached to each struggle which is nothing. Everything vile in the phlegm of yesteryear. Why wait in this hypoxic state? Keep diving within and without.

Now - as if settled through writhing. Cold dex and cut-to-**** with baby's breath. Whittle me in the corner with a carrot peeler cause i ain't got the guts. Test the ceslestial light like a fuse box or put the lid on.

One in the morning and my mind just won't stop, replaying the memories from my climb to the top, as i reached the peak i closed my eyes and let my mind drop, watched as it took flight into the open air, now when they look into my eyes they can't seem to find any traces of my soul there, dealt a hand that I've never considered fair, dex and insanity labeled the perfect pair, i look at my life and i am filled with a feeling of utter disgust, looking at all these people not knowing who i can trust, only with hushed whispers is this beast discussed, and you wonder why i say this **** is a must, i could probably live without using it as a crutch, but over the last seven years i have buried so much, an intergalactic being walking around so out of touch, I'm absolutely obsolete, I'm completely incomplete, in a downward spiral with the heavens at my feet, praying that when i go that we will finally be able to meet, but i see hells winds beginning to blow as i slowly feel the heat, met death at the door and asked him to take a seat, please listen closely because this is something i can never repeat, something always brings me back to this cold dark place, wishing i could be just another passing face, someone that will be easy to replace, God i hope that is the case, only because they have all been through so much already, chain smoking trying to keep my hands steady, after you departed my heart felt so ******* heavy, so of course when death came the first time i was waiting and ready, he caught me off guard the second time, they screamed as i flattened a second line, i wish i could explain this mind of mine, but i really don't have the time, wouldn't even understand if you knew the places I've seen, lost my mind at just sixteen, can't justify the things I've done, the last seven years spent denying I was on the run, and don't you know that since we met you have been the only one, each night praying that she doesn't have to bury another son, but I'm looking at another eight, on a daily basis defying fate, thoughts of that trip life gave that stone a second date, if death is inevitable then why wait, six grams have me wondering if you are waiting at heavens gate, abusing life not knowing when I will go, even in the darkest of nights my mind will glow, that doesn't mean I haven't been to the bottom though, because I've been lower than low, I've had that bottle to my temple wanting nothing more than to let it blow, this addiction is worse than they will ever know, just praying that my eyes don't let it show, the trip comes so fast and the pain leaves so slow, abusing life because I may never know tomorrow..

I'm writing my name in the rain streaking down the window, opening my mind just to feel the wind blow, scattering amongst the sea as a lost albatross, signing this obituary as sincerely your final loss, I heard a rolling stone gathers no moss, so I trip so much I can't even remember the last time I was sober, I think it was late oh seven on the last day of october, right before we found out your life was over, but that was so many years ago, so many tears ago, pyramids lost along the last show, belonging to only a mind they will never know, watch the storm grow, they said only a madman would venture into it though, trees topple in the fierce howling wind, a tear no seamstress could ever mend, but yet here we are again, don't you know even from the beginning I knew you had to be more than a friend, I never imagined you were just the beginning to another end, wondering quietly as it begins, words nothing more than a simple outlet, a mind I still haven't figured out yet, conquered would be an out stretch, little to no belief, searching for any type of relief, purity is all I really seek, trying to turn over a new leaf, but its just out of reach, blind to those who speak, well beyond the days of simply being unique, now something more like a tripped freak, here take a peak, tell me what you see, surely this isn't me, if not than what could it be, a being desperately trying to remain free, but at the same time carefully planning life number three, lets stop for a minute in time, can I share something on my mind, examine this thought and tell me what you find, how is it that I find myself on my third, most only get one and thats the last thats heard, a final farewell and not another word, divine intervention is something that never occurred, or am I just not seeing this right, maybe I was just blinded by deaths light, they said I shouldn't have won that fight, that I shouldn't have survived that flight, but they dont know that my mind didn't make it out that night, a couple scars in black ink, six years gone in a blink, a madman the way I live on the brink, I trip to keep the pain at bay, I write what I can't say, dex third eye blind because its the only way, after you left I just couldn't find a reason to stay, started down a dark path right after your service ended, a heart that is beyond being mended, thats just another thing I shouldn't have attended, all this pain was never intended, thinking back on all the times I pretended, all the monsters I've befriended, gave my soul just so my life would be extended, and you have the nerve to call me demented, waiting watching to see if i was offended, do you think this is the first time I've been labeled as such, an intergalactic mind so out of touch, six more as I wonder what is to much, went from a childish phase to using it as a crutch, so these days it seems like a must, and please just know that I say that with so much disgust, I hate that this drug is the only ******* thing I can trust, a cause labeled so unjust, fatal flights until I'm ashes and dust, after I'm gone these words are all that will remain, I wonder what they will remember when they hear my name, will they smile and rejoice or shake their heads in shame, I just hope that you never know the feeling of this pain, that you never have to venture into the rain,i pray you are never just another soul slain, these words are starting to blur so for now I must go, but first there is something I would like you to know, I have so much love for you even though it may not always show, you changed my life in more ways than you will ever know, it looks as though the tide is beginning to rise, I guess I've never been good at goodbyes, so please let not a perfect vision escape your eyes, don't ruin the ending let it come as a surprise..

Bubba and Cedric, fire up the pit,
throwin’ shade and talking ****,
Javier shows up with fajita,
mesquite smoke runs off **** mosquitos.

Red hots sizzle and skins wide split,
beer so cold, my hands frostbit,
chicken thighs, marinated in dill,
next to it onions and peppers grill.

Thin strips of beef, crackle, and pop
Bill pulls up, he's a cop,
grins and says we’re being too loud,
opens up a beer and joins the crowd.

Music pumping, Master P, and Hank Jr.
everybody is dancing, even Aunt Petunia,
walking a circle when the cumbia plays,
this is turning into a hell of a day.

It's time to eat, ****, forgot tortillas,
no, we didn’t here comes Maria,
brought some for us, all homemade,
washing it down with moonshine lemonade.

Time for dessert, what do we got?
apple cobbler, in the crock ***,
Kita made cake, better than ***,
moon pies in a box, brought by Dex.

The sun dips low but not the tunes,
too much fun, nobody leaving soon,
drinking and dancing and telling jokes,
cigars come out, time to smoke.

Sun coming up, it’s time to go,
night never stopped its awesome flow,
bleary eyed and sleepy as hell,
let's go home and sleep a spell.

Thoughts of those last thirty six, death and reality a perfect mix, labeled dex the perfect fix, life and death what would you pick, so many grams it was sick, three after the first eight did the trick, walking under a forgotten moon, looked to the sky and whispered I'll see you soon, strangers and loved ones filled the room, nine followed by a mental boom, when it rains it pours and this a mental monsoon, whats death to the dead, thoughts of leaping over the edge swimming through my head, open my eyes and I'm laying in bed, roll over and let the trip begin, a past filled with so much sin, but I say I'm more than the person I was back then, oh but then again, I guess I will find out when I reach my end, sadly I think death is my only real friend, at least he doesn't have to pretend..

I'm writing my name in the rain streaking down the window, opening my mind just to feel the wind blow, scattering amongst the sea as a lost albatross, signing this obituary as sincerely your final loss, I heard a rolling stone gathers no moss, so I trip so much I can't even remember the last time I was sober, I think it was late two thousand seven on the last day of October, right before we found out your life was over, but that was so many years ago, so many tears ago, pyramids lost along the last show, belonging only to a mind they will never know, watching the storm grow, they said only a madman would venture into it though, trees topple in the fierce howling wind, a tear no seamstress could ever mend, but yet here we are again, don't you know even from the beginning I knew you had to be more than a friend, I never imagined you were just the beginning to another end, wondering quietly as it begins, these words are nothing more than a simple outlet, a mind I still haven't figured out yet, conquered would be an out stretch, little to no belief, searching for any type of relief, purity is all I really seek, trying to turn over a new leaf, but its just out of reach, blind to those who speak, well beyond the days of simply being unique, now something more like a tripped freak, here take a peak, tell me what you see, surely this isn't me, if not than what could it be, a being desperately trying to remain free, but at the same time carefully planning life number three, lets stop for a minute in time, can I share something on my mind, examine this thought and tell me what you find, how is it that I find myself on my third, most only get one and thats the last thats heard, a final farewell and not another word, divine intervention is something that never occurred, or am I just not seeing this right, maybe I was just blinded by deaths light, they said I shouldn't have won that fight, that I shouldn't have survived that flight, but they dont know that my mind didn't make it out that night, a couple scars in black ink, six years gone in a blink, a madman the way I live on the brink, I trip to keep the pain at bay, I write what I can't say, dex third eye blind because its the only way, after you left I just couldn't find a reason to stay, started down a dark path right after your service ended, a heart that is beyond being mended, that's just another thing I shouldn't have attended, all this pain was never intended, thinking back on all the times I pretended, all the monsters I've befriended, gave my soul just so my life would be extended, and you have the nerve to call me demented, waiting watching to see if i was offended, do you think this is the first time I've been labeled as such, an intergalactic mind so out of touch, six more as I wonder what is to much, went from a childish phase to using it as a crutch, so these days it seems like a must, and please just know that I say that with so much disgust, I hate that this drug is the only ******* thing I can trust, a cause labeled so unjust, potentially fatal flights until I'm ashes and dust, after I'm gone these words are all that will remain, I wonder what they will remember when they hear my name, will they smile and rejoice or shake their heads in shame, I just hope that you never know the feeling of this pain, that you never have to venture into the rain,i pray you are never just another soul slain, these words are starting to blur so for now I must go, but first there is something I would like you to know, I have so much love for you even though it may not always show, you changed my life in more ways than you will ever know, but it looks as though the tide is beginning to rise, I guess I've never been good at goodbyes, so please let not a perfect vision escape your eyes, don't ruin the ending let it come as a surprise...

keep on crafting verses
which ain't just a means of killing time
but, lyrics-wise
also a means of whacking turkeys
and black hA̲ts I'm versus
such as hacks with lyrics rather poorly
organized, which is why they're strE̲E̲t-gang-like
and, of course, autocratic vermins
composing both unjust regimes & crime
rings; said means of whacking, fO̲r when
my stuff's hatched, I̲t seems like
the close quarters battle chO̲I̲ce pre—
—ferred among primeval tribes
of present days northwestern states
["hatchet"; North American Indians; USA & Canada]
once again, a path of wA̲r is
picked, like how you may feel after surfing
through bA̲d news, O̲r when
you indulge in consumption
of content re injustice, corruption
["piqued"]
ju[ɪ]st like the weapon O̲f the Reaper
I've gO̲t a grim side
["scythe"]
and, like a cross gal-beater
'bout to blow off his ******* steam by
laying his meat hooks O̲n a chica
done no wrong to him, my
plan of attack is horrid; hope you o[ɑ]pps have **** hearses
plus caskets ordered
for yourselves; a nutbA̲g with swO̲rd dex—
—terity; dozen slashing strikes A̲t a tO̲rse, which
like a lush lass performing
in front of you a **[ɑ]t lA̲p dance, serves as
stimulation; then I hA̲ck off fO̲relimbs
and as a final blow
I get my target's gO̲rge slit
many would likely ca[ɔ]ll
such scene "bloodbath", but that's absurdish
for, in the scene, there's o[ɑ]bvi no
******* tub A̲s a storage
for spilled blood; it reminds me mo'
of a blood fountain (view-wise)
an assassin thirsty for blood's back to murking
————————————————————————————————
you know, knowledge & thou[ɑ]ghts about things
being either unjust, such as crim. rings
or unrighteous regimes, or O̲nes causing de[ɪ]s—
—pondence, regardless if I̲t's
something from the past or stuff that exists
in the present, are like a disease
that's why it's said unkno[ɑ]wledge is bliss
[to be more precise, "ignorance is bliss"]
that's why sO̲metimes you wish
your mI̲nd were at peace, like sO̲meone deceased
or you were in a better place
like a country scene wI̲th autumnal sU̲n-illumed trees, but...
————————————————————————————————
like an eye-catching gI̲rl with
an untactful shO̲rt rig
pU̲t on (like that war-monge[—]ring sh#tbag)
(that personifies a corruptive impact)
(of power) & acting *****
in front of an unattached het bO̲y, this
**** autocratic wO̲rld's ju[ɪ]st
****** asking for it (aaargh!)
while you already've got a tragic pE̲rs. en—
—vironment, which, alongsI̲de of the sh#t
mentioned just prior, has you turning
slowly into a ******* madman bursting
with flipping steam (loco)
excuse me if it's an indecent thing
to say, but the world of the living seems
like a giga[ɛ]ntic dumpsite (gigantic dumpsite)
for it's full of pieces of trash deserving
to be eliminated; that's why
you sometimes wish you were a master termi—
—nator serving as a real embo[ɑ]dier
of retribution, like Red Hood, Punisher
besides, as it's been mentioned prior ta
this, there's anger occurring I̲n you O̲nce in a
while, which itself isn't mU̲ch of a
scourge, unlike ex-hitmen compelled to cO̲me back ta
a path of spilling blO̲O̲d, but, a—
—kin to a cellar with a bU̲nch of au[ɑ]—
—thoritarian-regime-or-mafia-
-linked ******, some drU̲ms of a—
—lcohol, & a ca[ɛ]ndle lustre o[ɑ]—
—ccupying a somewhat evil mI̲nd of a
vengeful sO̲n of a
gun, it's a somewhat combustible story
["storey"]
when you've got not up to ***** sources
of blowing off steam
————————————————————————————————
atrocious, obscene
in self-expression, but it's just a reflection of this
corrupt world that I've been
influenced by; while the boat that I'm in
is a far cry from a floating posh inn
["by floating posh inn", I mean "cruise liner"]
more like an old brigantine
with nigh-on nO̲body bei[—]ng
on board; but even
sinking lO̲w when I scheme
my bars, I'm sti̲ll on
a morally higher ground than those rO̲gues I'm agin
like the Ledger's Joker, I deem
this world deserves a better category of crims
than gangsters & ******* ******* for im—
—proper, self-assertive regimes; a bO̲ld breed of in—
—dividuals who'd be disposing of prin—
—ciple-lacking sods blindfolded by ching
and power, like thO̲se I've just in—
—dicated; you may get your f#ck finger
and your pointer organized, sim. ta
a **** mo[ɑ]b, I̲nto the V sign if ya
know who I mean
[9 letters, the 1st one is "v", the last one is "e"]