Wherein we stumble onto A Primer on Failure birthday divorce poem by the J. Bradley titled "To Ben Tanzer, Regarding Your Empty Room," and despite the subject matter find ourselves sitting here smiling.

For real. Here. Beautious. That. And a stanza. Cool?

"Runner, I thought I was your sandman.
Each night, I took you to Carousel
and you returned in the morning,
your mouth giving birth to a waterfall
trickling on your pillow."