For JPF
“Linear nonsense
gets no closer the bone”.
Sound luminosity’s
always
an audacity.
Music
the
least at once to counterfeit,
detected
to indicate a shadow
bolder
perceived.
So cut
it. And if you find the skeleton
shuck it,
along the wall string it out
to
a position sitting like the sitting we sit.
Or sit the bones.
They fall in place
to the
linear sense of joints locked
something;
nothing that the seeker
does
at the not time exist same.
Linear gets no closer
nonsense. I need for it
the bone in the fruit,
another spur
disconnect,
another
scalpel across a decade,
Where architects of
those who signed,
have this colony my credit slip,
the hand when those I hope to
accompany,
others in which grew
too numb—
gone
I just woke up to grasp the pen
my coffin.
I know that granted such me a night could not be repeated;
Tomorrow night and breathing into imperfect—
This quite preterite ordinary even in ordinary life.
Many
Imagined
Rivers conjoin
In this kudzu
Where state
Weighs
Till
Crossbeams down
Whole sheds
Subside
Site or scar?
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