Claw
Tooth
Bone
Where feeling is absent
Cleanliness is most possible
In life or death
The pure starch-bleached remainder
From skin to muscle to what's left
Hides behind self's hood
But hair peeks out
As growth doesn't care
Who's shaved head was meant to stay balked
Base by pitch by ball:
By rule, ump this one out and wish for viscosity
On breezes that wouldn't hold an ounce of mist
Concept corners always turn ninety degrees
And whether centigrade or fair height
That's a too-tall order for this messy purple world
Roman Ryan 