draft.
not like a tantrum, more a slog through dry-
ness. ready now?
may you deserve what you are
given any day now.
the prompt one sugared
her own quesadilla
when I looked away. anybody
hungry? not unless you want to
pay. I inhabit ways you live
alongside gravitas. where
pavement nudged by stippling
holds intact its reputation.
I have reservations various.
and you my choice song, what do you
like to warble? is defeat
one of your syllables?
the shrine where we met the healer
who is now a culprit
has been singled out
for mercied accolades.
or I would ask you to join us
on the cusp of weather-
stripping and sawdust.
anyone who knows to norm
the sea is well positioned
to be named a feather of quartet.
the text rubbed finely is about
to fall away. someone
will read what she admires,
and we won't fully trust
what she reports.
it matters to bequeath what she
divines, but that amounts to findings
without spine.
just walk with me a ways and
call upon what you can
call upon to bring back
to the surface evidence and
a smattering of truth
without the sucrose and
transparency for all to separate
and see.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
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