Written by little g.
of words and fragments, movable,
it’s a special game…
It goes with you on your daily round.
You say the words silently
several million times,
rewrite in between.
Once it’s done it can weigh
a couple of tons.
You need some help now
to carry it around
when a couple of muscle-brained drovers
right out of the Old Testament come along
and haul it up to the mountain-top,
where an angel with wings
floats down out of the clouds and says
she doesn’t know what it means.
Just the punctuation alone can take decades.