If you could be summed up by a poem, what would the title be, that’s the thing with poetry, it has a spirit, something it wants to express, in so many words, it tries to say each with each aspect, just imagine being god, creating a person, something so grand can only be done by the heavens, or a woman, it’s like, with a seed, the heavens try say everything, such a grand ordeal, and very much attempted, in each person, a god is hiding, a universe waiting to feed, Adam and Eve, their judgment, the sun, the moon, the stars, a fisherman, a demon, if a seed is meant to be scattered, it might as well be prepared and ready to defend, so many warriors, a soldier, one of the greatest things a person can be, each action, a wave of a hand, like a thousand blades, seen from each perspective, in the realm of possibility, all that it can be, or has to be, art or mathematics, men and women looking at the stars, outside of it, yet within their minds, contained is everything, a scientist examining the structure of an atom, a blacksmith hammering, god is this, and the bumblebee in the water lily, our history, simply the heavens and their judgement, all they wanted to say, composed and enclosing, the universe talking to itself, the height one can reach with a pen, a person, a tattoo, and the value of words, or lettering, the god of fonts, autism and each aspect, if it’s small here, it’s only distance, not even Anna, not even Tanya, if you ever thought you could be proud, sin has always been the same, what we inherit from our father, and all the work that has to be done, clean slates gathering dirt, and old age, something so beautiful, yet something imperfect, nerdy girl with glasses, Ohio and all the unicorns, the composition of a life, in the distance, is the river Ganges waiting, or which way is the water flowing, sin, cos, tan, we are but men, I can’t get everything…

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