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An investor in the lowly sees—he posits—

potential, his vision versed in investments


which transcend the scope of the laymen's finite

perspective (of which, I must confess, I count 


myself as member.) Good foundation he insists, 

tearing down drywall once deemed sufficient


space to house, if temporarily, the world.

He says it once again when prying up nails  


no longer adequate to hold together a 3-bed

2-bath understanding of What Is, heads rusted


from inevitable oxidation. Good foundation, 

he adds a third time, as with a hammer he begins


to raise a dwelling more sufficient for a swelling

apprehension, while I, though grateful for such an


undertaking, cry out as my ribs are ripped apart

like curtain, my naked spirit baptized in sawdust.


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