28: Robbing the cradle, baby: The big picture shows me my modest place. 
I’m technically adept dining in (or out) day by night and night by day —   
 
(Each flatterer the other’s reigning enemy oppressed by grumpy distortion,  
fractured logic — Hex 39 — and their debarred morbidity.)  
The while you, babe — I always flatter you in long consent —  
  
But daily, nightly I work on my music farther from you now,   
 
happy, longer toil to stronger sorrows and griefs. So we never sleep — you thru me,
exactly what the cradle requests; the place rocks.