218

The soul is very quiet,
It has the floor.

The freight train carries itself
As it stays in the same spot for four minutes
And for that spot is experienced as a heavy pulse.

Baby onset.
Time of baby, stint eternal.

Now nothing commands the pressure
To resent our mayfly codex!
Sofa full of baby books,
Time as a beer for paper

Tares of pencils
Tame the chaos on the precipice.