Drumming finger tips resound the reverie
of never forgetting and holding a feather tipped
needle in my ribcage, thoughts on display for
the betters to see. So dumb and Idiot am Me,
foolishly proclaiming as loud as my being can be.

	This is my holy day,
	my revival of returning dances and
		Awkard prancing red brick reign
		dearly tender.