Sell three copies they convince you you’re winning mother father baby bird they who in the corner sit with mountains to suture a couple thousand dollars high and under the worst company that ever went public bends meanwhile to its will who down at the volcano beg for fruited jobs devoid of humanity they who dispose of the chemical haze brave marble queuing for another opportunity of a terracotta lifetime real heroes jacking open my open eyelids like who were you able to convince an autobiographical pharmacy never closes the unpredictable patron saint of updraft laureate isabel allende of antediluvian cemeteries what’s clever is wasted yellow sky yellow leaves square and broken yellow birds rearranging the gossamer daylight stuck in my head for 25 years for a small edible triangle of scaffolding around one’s river thorough disposable yellow concrete swelling to meet the yellow crucifixion who yellow the house yellow audi yellow cardinal perch atop the dizzy birch of free markets.