The candor disappears in the title: an effort made vague.
It's another living room afternoon, with a little rain and
A lot of honey in the coffee. There's a biography on the
Triangular table and comic book about an ancient Chinese
Philosopher underneath; osmosis, have you heard of that thing
That you didn't read yet? That's a question for me, it appears.
Candor can't hold a candle to the fires of intuition, suppressed
As a matter of what, ethics? Another word for discomfort,
As long as kindness is an intuition. Moralize a stoppage,
An Andon cord on which I'm holding on for Dear Life,
Why don't you write back when the letters are as detailed
As they've been? The stages of the journey, whether hero
Or regular protagonist, I'm on my butt because I won't go
Back onto the knees to beg for that mentor to get past stage
Six to another level of service. Call me lazy, I'll call it like
IC chips, with the paradoxes wired in both parallel and
Series. Electronics class was a moment of clarity, way back.
Roman Ryan 