the most of it was the terrible conversation between all of the lines
between the poets between the poems the artists the marks on
the wall the misstep from letter A to letter O spelling things wrong
sleeping inside that last letter because it was round soft the
other letters end eat olives on orange days mustards on grey
sandwich man the O was the one we could fit inside, endless not
endless in the way the plains are endless but a new kind and then
there is the salt peppa ketchup triangle just another spectacle of
present tenses but nice just the same give language to what diary
smellssmall in light of recent events I did not know your father was
a yankees fan listen to the others nothing which livesclose in the
space of limited horizons with a co-opted O to make
soft and feel at home