The Art Of CNnecting            
            With The Old Mind            
             My Mind Is Being Skewed. Mi  
  Skeleton Is Stringy And Old And Alien   
             The Situation Is Literally   
 Pressed Out Through My Eyes, It'S        
 EchoIng Like                             
             The Sunset Of The Eternal    
         Persistently Against My Emulsion 
    It'S Ungraspable To Me, What Other    
   HumanS Are Doing And Abstracting,      
  And Above All Else, What Time They Use? 
 How Long A Time Has Passed, For Them?    
   Continuously I'M Crowding Through      
  The Fourth wall  Outwards Is What    
  I'M Thinking But It'S Wrong.. A New   
   Narrator Is Introduced, Occasionally 
    Aware Of The Previous One, Deeper  
     Down In The DragonS Throat.