I show up to the showdown where I showleft, showright, make an installation of myself in part regalia, labelled jeans and t shirts, y shirts and x shirts, follow the exit that bears right and left its ruder parts detail the insignificance of youth in big displays meant to be the loudest noise because I am not confident enough to be quiet yet.
O, lady when I was young
You helped me climb mountains,
I took enough of yourself
into my expanding forest
took in fernleaf, pinenut, mossiness,
until the wood was dark moorland,
Let you out along my desire paths,
to join the gust as wends its own way.