See, solutionism’s unsolvable problem—wonder—pat-a-cakes where method makes—and in that place of sensed awe, fantastic questions flow without a need to know beyond the joys of show.

Where did crumbled castle go?

Could it stand up to a blow?

Would it last if made of dough?

So, before eve’s eeked ebbs leave too many webs,

Mind the moments where plan as play just thinks, “Oh?” ; )