“Oh my!  He’s on fire!” 
Yeah, yeah, pome three and it is
as if I never even left, possibly, but 
three is only 1% of three hundred
and new game plus has no end,
so now where is your God?

How long do I plan on adding pomes,
to this digital archive?  How long
can I even traverse these electric
letters to hit up each day with a pome?

There were struggles near the end,
that constant feel of having said
this before, but in a jauntier manner,
and oh my, do I have some phrases
that I like to repeat with no conscious!

Flecked paint needs to go, but it is just
SO good at conveying the state
of that coloured material!

No, I will go, until I do not,
and this is part of the postgame – this
time, 
the time is mine, 
and the 
unknown is known, 
only to me.