past participle

Do not choose but wade ceaselessly. Grab a dolphin's

fin. Do you know of its intelligence? Its

wit and how it fucks for fun? The crumbled castles in

paintings have always impressed me. I could imagine

the crags and dimples of the ruins, familiar as

molars. Sometime later I realized the legacy of those

amorphous masses that hold us tight to their buxom

qualities and the feelings of consistency

and reassurance granted from touching their groove.

Of course now I know that each time it is touched

it is changed, the parts shifted, rearranged,

gumballs departing joyously from their crowded world.

Now I know much better, you can rest assured.

The only thing I want to do now is apologize

and go back to bed. I dream of a light,

not unlike that of the sun reflected off a

dolphin's neutral gray skin. I hear tales of trips

away to bright and yellow lands, their pleasantly

frothing oceans, their dirt cheap drinks. I felt

the draft was excessive. It chilled me and made

me forget what I had come here to do.