"Two, Three."
"Sad fat boy in pirate hat.
Long, old, dented copper colored Ford.
How many traits must a thing have in order to be singular?
Echo persuades us everything we say has been said at least once
before.
Two plump, bald men in gray T-shirts and tan shorts
are walking a small bulldog, followed
by the eyes of an invisible third person.
The Trinity was born from what we
know of the bitter symbiosis of couples.
Can we reduce echo's sadness by synchronizing our speeches?
Is it the beginning or end of real
love when we pity a person because in him we
see ourselves?"