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<p>But this time further east with feeling. Quit doing that annoying thing with your sandpaper face. Nonresponse. Need to feel sawdust drifting from your ceilings, feel it in my gut. Sneeze it back black. Ceramic tile montage of grace and shitty with/without feeling, warping wood, veneer. Shave popcorn stucco ceiling into my eyes. Wear a blue paper mask. Exert more stage presence, sneeze less. Be feral. Bee, lion. Lovely. Beeline for me. Don't be lying up there. Be fear, all fear. Full house tonight. Sand the ceiling down. Smooth, prime and paint.</p>
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What is the sum of 11 and 6:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.