I in the park’s shade of trees walk on down the stone steps (as opposed to the left) because these are appealing in feeling to me, and as I do so I look up to the clouds cotton-white high and bright because they are appealing to see to me. Little time left to enjoy this corruption of nature as I have to be in by Four. Maybe my day off I’ll set sail a shellnut boat out on a bird bath, mast a great grass blade. Maybe my clay face layered in glazes will furnish a furnace; harden its skin from within. Maybe this sense of time-lately will stretch for this wretch and I’ll catch on to something that passes too fast to be felt, seen, or conscious of. Infinite Stimuli unify all of my depths.