Top and bottom, please.
Do not send me
to a middle
that only concerns itself
with immedia' neighbors.
Call it extremis, address it to Mr. Devil III and Ms. God Sr.;
hoped for responses to stay out of purgatory.
Did I work hard enough at the absurditis, Albert?
Can I have mine eagles in this life and repeating, Friedrich?
Did my confusion invigorate and make music, Heather?
I won't know for a while;
as I stare at the style;
hoping for pauses,
settling for causes.
Push on, with the calm of the worm covered in ants,
hoping for a robin or a rain
wriggling on account of the pain
remembering more than before of recants and chants.
Roman Ryan 