| Sonnets Saw Nits On It | |
| I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am | |
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| Lastly | |
| First you must somehow remove the curse from the accursed, once-beloved object; second you must be virile or fecund, preparing a way for the birth and its girth; third you must be humble as a turd, expecting no less than to be reviled and discarded; fourth you must bring forth in twos the animals . . . | |
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