Porcelain Table Saw

A split into the wilderness aside from the island,

I swam in the midnight calm by the hour,

Accomplishments undergo a deep check,

The chills tingle my spine below the facts,

The blows of the bushes spits out water,

Separating the deals from the case of hunters,

Blessed by the rule of thumb,

Native in language of the tongue,

At the feet of the Porcelain Table Saw,

I caress the quivers of Ma,

Unlikely the last time we will ever meet,

So no words are lost for this time we speak.