To get your free demo of Rosetta Stone now
just call your home phone number
from when you were five years old
and weep inconsolably into the receiver
regardless of who picks up.
To get hantavirus or something similar to hantavairus
spread all manner of perishable items
in and around your swimsuit area
and wait, like, five or twelve hours for desired result.
To have Kate Moss come over wearing predominantly nothing
festoon your home-office with horrifying images
from a slideshow of dermatological conditions
like in a self-portrait that probably exists somewhere
of Francis Bacon surrounded by dermatological conditions.
Finally, to write poems like the present author
scatter adverbs liberally throughout your collected work
and get recklessly intimate with the English language
regardless of who’s watching or when.