1947: i crash the party. at the party. at the party where all seems a part. but what mine? shy of i cry. when i cry (inner) stars slick my organ. arty warty. are you a party cat or a party dog. eyes emit waves like pods. i look for my side amid stars. it is a party. ever and ever. but sky is so full of it that that open and float like faces out of treed buds. dear, shall we sup on life’s nub? shall we on the stub of this hub? late now. i wish to have thick skin but mine is thin as the leaf of a ghost. there is, in the hotel of our lives, a time yet.