Six Feet Into the Broken Stock

They say, perfection

in law. They say all is

law. They say waves.

Can you stand? We

can. Which one is for

play, and which is the grave?

I died for a thought. Went

up, all abroad and thought,

this is the lower way.

See. They cannot copy a day.

We can, except for fact of form.

Except for law. All is waves.

I left business to perish, and

nothing stayed. I left, and

everybody came.