between the branches of the lines in the phrases 2014.03.11.

The hollow tree that
died long gone
and fruit that purveyor's
knife endangered by
slight fit of the
idiocy that helps
with following of the
follower
The platitudes of the fuzziness
that keeps on going and
buzzing
the biscuit of
daily glory
helps to some extent
in what seemingly
voices the silent
conondrum

It's the edges of the
serpentine that
kept glowing in the
dark and didn't
open me to the
usual
hollowness
this funny feeling
when you touch
something that
doesn't match your fingers

the awkward
look that you
give
when troubled
try to bring on the
rest of the stead
that you used to have.

Now that everything is gone
Help yourself
with
what's left
and don't worry about the rest.