Steal only what you can wear. Two nickels don't ring like a dime. Saints come in pints, quarts, gallons. Step on a crack, break your mother's back. Skip one, break your own.
Seeds are round.
You might not be too far off from what Alberta Turner's work is like. A flag lifts as it passes, a windsock dips. I could be God. So I've boiled a kettle of leeks and broken a brick and held my hand under a spout. I've pulled a stalk off a rhubarb and another stalk off another rhubarb.