God, grant me the serenity to accept, with upraised palms, smooth like two nickels, the word that sometimes, like a loosed neuron, frenetically flits across a yellow field,

No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story.
God, grant me the serenity to accept, with upraised palms, smooth like two nickels, the word that sometimes, like a loosed neuron, frenetically flits across a yellow field,