Twenty-four of them, once again

Twenty-four of them, once again after the twenty-three of them left after building the cities destroying a few cloud castles building towers and countries of question marks that merely are bent exclamations, oh, wow, ah and the like with many double you words that begin with you and you and mean to ask something, really, like apple seeds in grapefruit jam that nobody likes spreading marmalade and butter on hot toasts that smell like coffee and Sundays sin-days Saturday nights drunken debauchery waking u[ in unexpected beds behind screen curtains walking in shame walk of shame unable to open eyes wide the world is too bright and judging, judging by the looks that cats believe they get on their ways home however the world is just being the world the way it has always been judging or otherwise telling stories eating sugar refusing to admit having done some things that they may or may not have done on tables of roulette on swings and clubs, casinos and on the backs of hippopotamus that yawn to swallow the whole world you and you and I included not worrying about who, who indeed would feed them grass after the end of  Thursday after the sin-day Sunday like today or was it yesterday when you were born again – you and you like them who call themselves you and you in second person, twice in second person and three times in the person of three and the first person is just imaginary and the power of the first person to the first person, they say, is real in some way (or the other)