When you were ten you caught a fish

and showed your parents that pink flesh.

They whooped loud, mercury eyes! Silver guts!

That day all guzzled more than enough.

and that night, you grasped a new way to sit

that made the family round and perfect.

I’ve been trained in solitude.

I understood once how it went,

knew this job:

waking up earlier, laying down later,

with no one to bother,

and delighted

by no one.

I don't know why it's there either.

His thick shell has turned maroon.

Flies circle the fetid patch of pavement.His feelers

Fell limp, green, down. He makes me think

Of you.

The whole earth? I’ll take one plot,

Small, to die into and one to dance

Upon. Beyond that,

If you’ve got plenty of nothing,

Well, that’s something, in fact. Devil you know aside,

There’s a way that havings string

Shall I say that you are dead?

But you lived just a day.

The joke played

by the Creator is so sad.