pity this busy monster, manunkind,
plays with the bigness of his littleness
—- electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange; lenses extend
unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.
A world of made
is not a world of born —- pity poor flesh
a hopeless case if —- listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door; let's go