Ghosts fly in, fly through, fly out Run, cannot escape Frightened throughout They see our wretched Burning hungers Crushing spirits And weak wills Squandering hearts And evil swill Solid objects, bright reflection Of dark frills Then you ask of my preoccupation Of ghosts among us Time now- occupy us 1

Much like the value of sandOf an hour glassIs in the purpose of each grainSuch are weWe are the shoreOf something great   0

What we need is a prudent purveyor A fingerless wine    Won’t touch youUseless in panicLike a kettle    Whistling before the heatDo with distinctionAbandon the process 0

Everyone    Has holes in their thinkingEvermore in their speakingOur dubious task is    To not fall inside 1