S. Foster’s pissant patience died yesterday at age 55, of iodine and mercurochrome and basil and thyme and telephone pole notices and pig bristles and acrylic and porcelain and Rand McNally deserts and sheeting rattled by the wind. S. Foster’s weak and minimal patience died yesterday at age 52 of dimethyl perchlorate and flame resistant foam and persimmons and symbolic swans and asymbolic bird life and random enumeration. S. Foster’s last patience died yesterday in Burbank or Glendale at age 57, or age 46, extruding glistening framework, extruding gleaming intestinal blood, frothing a hollow distance, having suffered some extended languishing glissando of plush frenzy. S Foster’s petulant stripped patience died yesterday at Chortling Avenue and Gargling, aged 144, up till that time the oldest living patience wholly charred from the inside out like a burnt out Bakelite radio awaiting a signal, empty exoskeleton.

Scene shortly afterwards.