"…Rotting, rhythmic, rotting words like ripened fruit settle on hardened Earth below. I wonder if the earthworms know just how deep this poison goes. My very thoughts, the gnarled roots which feast upon the tears which fall. I wish that I could stop this all words like redwoods towered tall. I am the broken suffering spoken my words on display. Trunk torn wide open, the SAP sticky deep inside drips bits of contempt, sweetened on lips.…"