Only pencil needs a story, and a pair of eyes require
a place. A place may need the fizz of interaction.
Everyone is spaced to meet the needs.
The needs regale us with ourselves.
We see ourselves in others' needs.
We hack through reeds (some of us hear them).
And the ice wind turns to warm wind,
and the daylight falters prior to becoming
long-term fact. We factor in what has become of us.
We recognize in us the other selves.
The others selves (all twelve) will follow.
And the followers will lead into
the fallow yard, the acreage,
with scars and output and the infinite
capacity to feed.
