11,772. ALL MATTERS MET

ALL MATTERS MET

I've dined at All Hallows, and put

blood in my coffee for breakfast;

my foundational meal for the day

being a big, fat dream. Oh Carlisle, 

I should have met you long before.

-

This is where the factory men  -

I've been told, and I believe it  -

pour the ingots with which to

make the money we handle.

Silver, nickel, zinc, and copper.

I've never understood a moment.

-

There are proposals on the table

I will refuse to sign. I'm headed

back into the woodlands. I resign.