Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm Borrowed. Now I'm

Poems Aren't Postcards To Send Home.

Abundance Is Scooped From Abundance Yet Abundance Remains.

God Has A Brown Voice, As Soft And Full As Beer.

Thumbs Grow Into My Throat. I Wear Slaps Like A Spot Of Rouge.

It's A Little Mad, But I Believe I Am Many People. When I Am Writing A Poem, I Feel I Am The Person Who Should Have Written It.