When did my spelling get so backwards? The essay I rewrote kinda captured… this side I’ve created as a collage to serve my vast verbs. I like masters that master. A grand geological mind map, a cast curve. Freedom speech. This is my soul speak. I’m astounded, utterly alert yet fully grounded. This is my heart’s reach, my sound appetite, my raw technique. Flame’s a feeding in my seat. The surge is sweltering, platonic heat. Brings me to my next muse, this textured lyric is not to be confused. King is my namedom. A fine front as I claim one. Cross my path with a wretched snare and I’ll grave new. Fetch the end, I’ve begun again and I’ll haunt you. It’s my full right, it’s my style.