I know it’s hard to believe but one of your neighbors
Left 728 handmade books of poetry
Buried in the nearby grove.
One of them is dedicated to her enemies
And begins with the sentence:
We never know who our real enemies are.
She passed away last September being 334 years old,
Although she looked like she was 62.
She believed that somehow she managed to pick up
Long unsound messages from Lemurian monsters,
And she reproduced them as much as she could
In her latest books. Criminals,
Riffraff and popcorn vendors used to love her.