for the first thirty years,
jesus was a carpenter and a brother.
i am in pursuit of pies.
pies are my prize.
pies, the hand of one who slowly dies,
and being the invisible one who dries
your dripping dishes.
i put down my shovel;
i am an assassin;
i kill and eat lists.
my teeth are tiny x's.
allotted a year of alone, i chew and swallow.
