Conspire with me

To sneak onto the scene

Where we will stretch and pull

The canvas of the world

Onto a beautiful frame -

A new endoskeleton

Of mystifying dimensions,

Non-market values

That resound

To the core of our very being.

What we used to measure

Just to get through the day -

The clock on the wall,

The width of our hips

The coin in our bank

The line of our lips:

It all boils down

To a Nothing-Soup of

Superficial

Psychologic

Angst and

Halitosis,

Skin-deep statuses

Made to distract us

From the worth of

What is truly beautiful.

So pull those corners!

Let us anchor our world

To the shores of

That undiscovered country

Where grace abounds

In the poverty of sin

Where beauty is being,

Held and beheld

By the Artist himself.

We are his masterpiece,

Loved

And lacking no good thing.