Anchovy artichoke articulation
say it in layers and chewable bones
to become a Worcestershire secret
moss. Green, not ambiguously plum.
Sum the crumbs to bread? That feels
like a post-muffin theory that does
not take into surmount the necessity
of a precious hot agglomeration,
three seventy five for fifteen and
a half minutes, at least at this
altitude. Let the mountains
shadow your shadows, let
this become your pen's
umbrella, your silent
western trees falling
under, repressed, not
yet depressed but
please, yes, do
call it a recession.
Roman Ryan 