I did not have a dash of observation in my salt
a sprinkle of perhaps and two eyes hidden by
sunglasses, guarded by the vehicle and the
one way semi-mirror, a suction; for the
sun cannot come into the parallel lines
unbroken by reversals since confidence
is the deadliest virtue that you made into
a fact patter on the glass, covering the
ground in inches and inches of less than
alive organisms which would be explained
but we are better off emerging from the
muck as muck, becoming the whole pond
rather than a frog, a lily pad, doomed
to die as a component and never
transcend the individual life to
become so many.
Roman Ryan 