where have we died, splayed before
sunlight,
whelmed and harmed? such
citizenship, split
possibilities, made ostracized by
existence.
needless pontification, rather in
juleps
and roses and the Tablets of Moses.
suffering
sophistication. lying for no good
reason.
needing elements to excite the
mundane
—made winter in me, such warm
summer
winds. to laugh in tender mercy; to
debate
in tender hurting; trying to
understand the
first woman he ever claimed. if to
surrender
the internal ache, the bone in
chimes, so
furious in its cry. like the last
carpenter, in
high demand, each needs to
refurbish his home.
