I’d run again but it’s all about
This being the only poem
I can read to you so to
understand the Umbrian context;
a truffle-song under the great spit
each castle soaring to the wood beamed sky.
Some will say, in the years to come, a halo
or force stood around him. There is no such thing.
Remember that she's a you
feeling, a Decemebrist amongst your scattered
harken script, a beat - immense dull deep -
of the new new
