Finger Spans (for John Bennett) Out by the Camus I fidgeted and decap like I was on deeps. I flicked away the stang, tangled with a redips, got lost in the knits of my brain's spool. My lips grew relap, I began to nips, I fell into sudden peels then, at last, wolfer. This was my drawer, the sweetest tressed, my breath became decaps. I'm here to troper I was able to tinker it all back on its sloops; still it swang.
Dan Waber
