Of course I want praise
as weathervane Cassandra priest canary.
I think people want to hear what I think.
I am a normal monster.
I chum maze carpets and labyrinth drywall.
That sentence reminds me edit.
There can be a second draft that doesn't obliterate the poem
Cassandra canary priest weathervane
fool say, my heresies guaranteed
by persistent flickerings.
Fishing, my lips have decades of scars.