I wear a necklace of thirst.

My forehead is emblazoned with

The idea is in the umbilical cord.

My shoes light up.

I cannot walk without marching,

Dance without dreaming,

Scream without reading.

I carry a satchel of books.

The first one reads,

In the aftermath are bunnies and prose.

The second reads,

Math is Armageddon.

The third reads,

Armageddon was yesterday. The aftermath

Is bunnies and prose.