Ben Norris Matter-Of-Factly As a matter of fact, my shoes just fell off Not that they were securely fastened to my feet to begin with As a matter of fact, they're not even shoes they're sandals and they just fell off my feet As a matter of fact, my sandals are lying on cement the right one sitting on its side and I'm reluctant to pick them up As a matter of fact, I am afraid I'll lose my seat, sprawled on this bench, smelling the breeze and the sun and the ashes I am too lazy to get up, and I like it right here as a matter of fact In the Afternoon, 5 minutes Before Class Stuff Read a while, this poem isn't a lovely woman, or a lovely man written on asexual paper with pen, written on asexual paper with sterile pen Read awhile, the words aren't particularly pretty, not even the type of pretty you reserve for an ugly relative; somewhat drowsy and opt to send ol' Carl spinning I know this poem, these words, suck giant runny eggs, lovely eggs, lonely eggs, served on asexual paper with sterile pen garnish