To protect yourself, project yourself. I’m a dancer; I’m a doctor. The backlash of a thousand suns against their heavenly fathers. The switching railroad tracks of destiny where our eyes meet. Come kindly away from this place, please. Fire licks at the latches on our door. In our great green bed of earth, only our collaborative molecules of chromium and chlorophyll may ever reach us. They’ve made sure of that. I’m a lantern in the era of your nighttime river crossing. I’ll be extinguished when we reach the other side. Or else, like the hermit, I’ll remain at the water’s edge. Peering out. Ignominy mixed with pleasantries and acts of vandalism. I’m really ready to drown in the downpour of your umbrella. Ejaculate me into your life. Am I the cannon or the fodder? Do my words ring like doorbells in your heart? Do you jump when you hear the noise? Tempers like roadside flares, spelling out the location of past accidents and failures on the highway. Beasts, who were once healthy in the forests, are said to crumble to dust when we try to touch them. Fresh fish plucked from a thousand streams converging in the place we now stand. Shall I skin them and weave you a coat of scales?