Found the trans fatty e number.

The failing light of the questions 

the time It couldn’t take too read 

The answers for fears of being caught 

in typecast and consigned to the history 

in a can packed away with ribbons 

and black pearl. 

for explorers of citadels disposed 

by sandwich boards storms displaced 

And displayed by a calm sense of 

Everything is almost as it once was.


talks of honeymoon hands left behind

Presenting their Symbiotic guide 

to eating dust covered hats

watching where the rust covers 

Winter days.