THIS IS FUN

The water falls through the roof and I make time-bombs for time-bombs
The icicles just drip liquid intelligence on these streets too porous
These gummy shoes can’t walk 100 miles in the snow, but the martyr doesn’t matter
And since the martyr doesn’t matter, then we can stop the growth of growth
See, I know the secrets of every and all family trees
Forcing my nickle-and-dime-store-psycho-babble-vernacular on any seed with the guts to master
We can sink to the bottom or rise to the top, integrity and honesty
Species intertwined in the dance of fire circle pilgrimages
Leaking out of my leaky faucet leaks the first thousand droplets of life
My head is full of rich soil and I plan on planting crowfeet with delicacy and ardor