Sonnet 9

Here I am. I may change my mind!
Memo: Mr Frag-mento forgot you. Permission to speak freely, señor? 
We’d sign up for a language for fear of its instincts and nodule [could we?], ah! you are loved by many left behind. Since you are gracious and kind, ecosystems are watched over and settled in the world minus heroic practice, wailing, banging triangles… [yeah, the character Frag-mento winks] … playing lake ballads to some cambrian migratory pattern [your voice is going transparent like children’s eyes]. 

For Frag-mento sides — not with you or me — he’s with agnostic brethren over the cambrian business, Transzendenz, wörtlich or shaded for that. Then he wakes up [at last] — His voice hoarsens when it comes to memory, musical structures, his single life desire being videoed in your presence. Back to you.