 Okay, next, one of my favorites, well-known poets, Sir Dancer, Wala. Wala! Yeah, he did not have a spell list, this is Wala. This is a contest I entered that was, you're supposed to write about war and peace and how war is bad, peace is good, people get hurt. So here's how I came out on this, the violent flame consumes the violent games, the cosmic mimic. Was making quite some cosmic mimicry, which was well beyond your machine-based biomimicry. Crying like a motherless child, swimming in bad vibes. Then climbing imaginary walls, try to cling to the transparent parent, to flubber for scriptural guidance. Roll up, said some non-thing. The war-torn world is not all that bad here, chuckle-head, and getting tense stuff like a stressed up messed up potaster would be such a disaster. A potaster is a bad quote. Bam! Now he learned another word apparently. In fact, there are some mouth-watering non-foods and eye-popping invisible thrills and inequitable explanations here to all this. It's not all that bad, bad baby. The disembodied boy said, The war is in your head, cracker-jack. The conflict intensifies by your tension and the global warming comes from the heavy energy of you just rubbing people the wrong way. And more. You got boring in your members, a chattering in your brain. And if you continue to make secret concepts, those you disagree with, you know, the cosmic mimic is going to appear again. And up your ante. And if you are so ante-diss and anti-bad and anti-antibiotic and antibacterial, you are going to be such a sick puppy. And more. You, who are hating corporations, begging republicans and only wriggling the seat of power with a lear sneer. Wait! I'm tricking me out. Wait! I'm tricking me out. Shout at the peace freak. No, I mean I'm not mean. I mean you make me out to be mean. And you make me them. Cheap to jowl, the testy protester in the cosmic mine, where they added soon down on the proverbial monkey-pile line. The monkey-mine pile, trying to shout peace down each other to throw the thought, each feeling super superior, hot under the collar when low and behold. So that spark starts the Holy Spirit to burst flames of sweetheart contact, twin fires of true love at one meant heat to do its perfect work, within and without, without ever going out. So Dan Serrano, 11 months both here.