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Poem	It was wet & white & swift and where I am we don't know. It was dark and then it isn't. I wish the barker would come. There seems to be eat nothing. I am usually tired. I'm alone too. If only the strange one with so few legs would come, I'd say my prayers out of my mouth, as usual. Where are his note I loved? There may be horribles; it's hard to tell. The barker nips me but somehow I feel he too is on my side. I'm too alone. I see no end. If we could all run, even that would be better. I am hungry. The sun is not hot. It's not a good position I am in. If I had to do the whole thing over again I wouldn't.
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