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They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.
-William Shakespeare
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They That Stand High Have Many Blasts

William Shakespeare
They that stand high have many blasts to shake them.
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Greatness Blast Shakes

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If you shake your fist, the other guy will shake his too. but if you extend your hand to shake their hand, then they will extend theirs also, and you've made a friend.
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I stalk certain words... i catch them in mid-flight, as they buzz past, i trap them, clean them, peel them, i set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives... i stir them, i shake them, i drink them, i gulp them down, i mash them, i garnish them... i leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, like pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves... everything exists in the word.
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What have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me? what have they done to me?
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It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness.
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