a smarter man once asked me why for all we've got do we hide our skeletons in the inside lobsters and ants in body masks keep it all out they have the right idea live by the shield no cuts or colds or flu for them hermits don't bleed but me I'm made of scars and old band-aids another man once told me why he wrote poems verse leeches ink-letting drawing blood something about scraping marrow deep down in there cockroaches can't do that they got no guts soul-bones keep us straight somehow skin does the rest its one pink soft demand: touch and be touched