I sit at the striped, canary yellow
No Canary Row.
(I never finished that book either, to be
Now nearly bored.
Now frenetic and feral.
My long-hand is no match for my keyboarding.
In this state.
Everyone is a poet.
Everyone is an idiot.
Everyone is exactly who they are.
And perhaps we are just dummies.
Silent until we realize we are they,
and, they are