Oh, You’re a Poet

…which is to say that if I stop believing I exist I will, in fact, cease to exist—or else my cat is the reason I exist, in which case, I’m doomed.

Hi, Kids

Do you want to see me type pages of acrobats,

Leak leagues of sea toxins into a light beam?

And why avoid something modern and weird and uncertain and without academic criticism having focused on it for a thousand years?