Hidden in holy lands, the blank mind can't be seen
unless it expresses across faces.
That's the strategy for selling pieces to pesks,
nets stretched wide for misspellings
which only appear intended
if you have a New Yorker's blessing.
Don't show up or down or around or
yourself.
That's the disqualification train to the dirty river,
content to swim with ill-bred fishes,
on the stream that didn't receive its degree
in fine flowing design.
Water, don't fall until the powers that fee
have said so: submit as you're able
to the airy tables
at which sit the grandees,
trustees,
and bored tender hearts
who charitably provide their insight
to the aesthetic, fashionable estate sale.
That's how biographies happen!
Go to your age, spell out n
and t
and you'll be in someone's money
a photo bomb
glittering with your sharper teeth
in the eyes of those with taste.
Roman Ryan 