Suffering for art, what a lark, no one
tears a shed apart, no one sheds a tear
apart from a touching public display
reserved for dust storms in a museum
vision impaired by cosmic dust bunnies
inhale deeply, exhale, cough, cough, cough, fear
nerdles on the beach, mixed with sand, dismay
grants me the serenity to accept
Art school disasters, the Sunday funnies
refer to my lack of income, move on
to study economics and finance
in the hope of a foundation to clean
several patches of ocean debris, stance
towards money, form the slope-intercept
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