Questions (Full of Beans)

If I never don suits
I don’t know if I’d choose
red age shovels or stitching ten thousand suits for a buck
when you can just dream and

trying to race ahead
Because they think we’re led
by time or the universe or the undying cadence
He would make a point by

taking this cold, cold chance
to thirty minutes of chance
before the devil knows I’m still breathing, thinking that he’s
yet to be full of beans

when I think the long fall of prose made you fall to your knees
He does not believe the world is not what he thinks he sees