These first two drafts rejected with a single written critique It is rapturous still, the way you fill a page. I find it to be lacking In clash of celebrity and landfill My depressing little you-know-what-at-this-point is pointing down In the phenomenon of event and object and the miracle of their description It’s still pointing down I’ll fashion a new monument Out of my imitation of mammal curves And set that Sun for us Shame constructed all my morals While passersby all bid on the lamb as effigy Humiliation is the blueprint of my morals While passersby all bid on the lamb as effigy It is rapturous still the way I empty my mouth Stillborn ideas plus fertile hips Maternal lamb belly All eyes were on her breast reduction rosary Lamb struts these contractual obligations With the former vernacular shame embedded You can’t force a needle Apple, pear, hourglass Hourglass, apple, pear But I’ve got a concept for our nativity Assume the position Black lace on a pale ass And you turn around and smile We both make it red with ten million spankings Soft white snow onto which the lamb is bled I imagine my conversation with the lamb to go like this Hello, how have you been? I have been well, and yourself? I’ve been well too. Thank you for coming What nice weather we are having I hope you continue to be well I hope the same for you My conversation with the lamb went a bit more like this Would you not take me into your divine consideration? Would you not be gentle in your examination? Would you not have me sing you softly to sleep? I can’t sing if you’re looking at me One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten Okay