We kayak where lives Hippopotamus,
And hope it isn't submerged, a-bottom us.
With kayak a quite crunchy hard shell --
Us: savory filling that screams and yells, --
We'll be a three-bite river taco to hell.
River Taco [Lyric Poem]
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I certainly have my ideas, but I’m not going to jinx it or create a self-fulfilling prophecy on the matter. Sometimes the easy is hard and the hard comes easy, and — above all — people suck at making predictions (except in the case of self-fulfilling prophesies.)
Of Love and Other Demons by Gabriel García MárquezBe your authentic self.
And stop touching yourself so much.
But the first advice wouldn’t be understood, and the second would be ignored, so I’m not sure that it would be a productive undertaking.

bloom-laden Cherry
tree attracts no viewers;
the last blossom does.

Augers, drills, and trepans. They’re the most boring things I can think of.