Bearing each left turn about
the merry-go-round of bamboo,
a goldfish swallows me whole.
A fish only grows so large as the
pool it swims in...
this fish swims in the space
between the molecules.
If the panda is to be oblivious
and confined,
have you a shovel?
I can dig this creature out!
A voice from the cloud hails,
"You are not a hero!"
The shovel dissolves,
feelings of disintegration
are immigrating like vagrants
up from the hollow sewers.
They arrive bestowed with weapons
encrusted in mud.
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