What are we doing here, you and I? Are we making beauty (don't use that word!) and being seen? Are we diving deep into the vulnerable caverns and hoping that no one will breathe out to cause just such a cave-in that we've seen so many times? Is this play? Is this work? What does it look like? How many metaphors can the average person digest? I hope you have a good toilet. Because it's all of the around. Sneezes, leaves, treetips in the blue-purple afterglow. You'll see it all. The button-nosed beast who ate the village rooster and then stole a bottle of whiskey and used it for a pillow. There will be line snakes, enjammy jams (meant for you to taste), spiked punches into the shadows that might prefer to hide. Serious business, as you already know. So what am I doing, tell you again? Isn't it nice to see what you believe written down in words that came from elsewhere? That's one of the things it's for: a heads-down display for all the thoughts you vaguely know you feel.