in the dream a threshold dream
a permanent enclosed reality
the stuck piece never safens
and erosion crispens
and deliverance stays shoddy
and the cross-stitch leaves depression
wholly on the griddle
only to have died again
[[is not my wish
erasure is a gift some
moments craft by
in the past again]]
sorghum might
hold still
just as
the liftoff [ceases]
in the madrigal of dream cast
leaves go to their wiltness
and glove fashion stipples
only the rush of young mood
so sorted or unsorted leavings
compromise experience
I mean comprise
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