Chlorophyll, the deep sea green bullet. Once I did watch delighted and fell in. I fell in. April’s tendrils, she crawls through grassy fields to form a crown of crocuses, a paper crane. It’s an unfolding parade, an unbeatable cascade and its going fast from the factory labour privy to the black mailers. A real good cause I guess I’m blessed. I’m answered. Cancelled appointments I could have braved. Call in sick for my big fake while I’m, while I’m well awake. Chlorophyll. The statix always playing, nothings going on. Nothings going wrong with my privacy fence. With our liquid suspense. In the carnival clarinets from the underground pageant.