Climb into my microwave oven 
and you will discover
acres of karst
piled up by the window,
resting in congregational piety.

Trample the dust under
an unbridled wave of convenience,
swelling to new aspirations at 
every last catalogue entry.

Cling to the good and the evil alike,
not halting for strangers, nor pleasant
to foes of the rising contention.
Spring to the east, and let none of your

confidence falter or slip from your finger.
Let me know, kindly and truly, and all will be 
well, all manner of karst shall be well
‘til the sun overtakes you.