THE OBJECT OF THE EXERCISE
My nose twitches a small fraction
As the devil, asks of all;
To put their pants down in front of the Queen.
I lose track of time in my life.
I cannot see the wood from the trees.
Excruciatingly, I scratch the bone on my back;
Not vigorously however. For
This is because I am hopelessly confused.
Maybe I need to get some more memory.
I think I should buy money with money.
Things can only get better.
Bewildering as hopelessness is to those that hope.
It is the joy in being offered a chocolate
From the best chocolate-maker.
I does even Willy Wonka a duty.
Fair chance, fair method;
Hope unfair.
It jingles its fingers into every cranial cavity.
And then revolves.
Into this confusion, the earth turns perfectly.
So supreme its perfectness.
That the oceans themselves
Keep the time for the desert storm.
And the only helpers;
Offer more helping hands in confusion.
I finally understand magic;
Live in magic; be then of magic made.
April 2000, Mr.
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