A new idea
A new authorship
Like a beetle with his black shiny three-piece shells and his sturdy black snap-together legs
His head down he charges forward through the short grasses he thinks are tall
Yes! Like a beetle!
Because they live but a season
And so are always new
Always come out cluelessly self-assured raring to go
A new idea, a new authorship, a new literary dispensation
charging with newborn
with a newborn’s pep vigor innocence and drive
another beetle hatched with rounded shells, churning legs, and ping-ping billiard-table brains
this new
exciting
classy super classy
art