I feel socialist. Rifling thru market snapshots, validating
The center 
More than any single system, a tenet of

A huge agnostic discipline 
About attitudes behind morals. 

You know this open and shut — 
But take it down again / or thumb thru 

The balance left over from a computer
Of pure tides.

Thick grasses grow out on a date, back dabbling in craftwork while we roll thru them. All this shore acreage owned by production-geared landlords, prosaic at base, that is, a-theoretical, factual. Broke, misunderstood.