Happier than a hole in the ground.
Holier than a nose to the grindstone.
Mortar and cinderblock
somehow managed to float on a note good enough to block.
Don't slump, shoulders back.
Don't worry this is just a draft, a breeze, in fact.
Can't you see, can't you see, can't you see
that your life is a show about me?
To string along or sing aloof.
To sink the hole or raise the roof.
Beaming smiles from a bunny tooth.
I, she says, am the window to your soul