Waiting for the savior. Void voidness too in
Haste. Caricature of a blessed ego waits in
Dark ness, confounding shadow and night.
The rooted ness of roots will hold steady as
Wind makes short work of top soil, the wretched
Silliness, crafty loftedness of top soil imagining
Vapid release. Good goshed gosh, that is not
About to happen, not then, not now, not then.