It’s a can-do stone. I crush stuff with it. It forms a desire for camaraderie. Friend, you who have before, grind with me now
and then we’ll eat.
Then we’ll have some games and stories – the stone has to land with no sound in the bole of a fallen tree in a forest. The stone has brothers and sisters and I am certain it hath a father. I tend to the stone. I could be exploded at any moment. I bow and lick it free of onion bits for I am very hungry. The stone has grown large. it has divided itself and given itself away which is mythological and perfect.
What I thought might ruin me didn’t ruin me, but I have not learned to know that each minute. To whom it may concern, thank you for the hamburger of stone that reminds me: of the abundance I have received, I understand very little. Amen.
