Λ ╱ ╲ ╱ ╲ ┌──────────╱ ╲──────────┐ │ ╱ ╲ │ │ ╱ ╲ │ │ ╱ ╲ │ On a rich mountain I forgot about my job as a speech pathologist (safely, justly) and raised by that rich strictness, I made my first poem: 'Rotting Roommate' And picked my way back down the mo untain in the dark And dri ppi ng dow n t hos e s ton y c ons tru cti ons