The Adolescent’s “Amoeba”    I wake up typing letters Alphabet, alphabet—though not to anyone in particular To the circus    To Fluoride    Beelzebub or Beelzebubba It’s impossible to say for sure    It’s impossible to say anything for sure, and this remains a fundamental dilemma Intellectual, spiritual    All men are mortal, including all women and children and dogs    I almost feel saddest for the latter, but children run a close second snaring the rabbit Today’s the resurrection    Agnes is playing a recorder, little song    How to grow and grow along without turning into a devil/red giant    Or if one must, how also to be a sequoia    One thing’s certain: I won’t do it typing The sun a sort of burning white hole in [...]