1,203 Readings

& Yet More



Nor aught storied

though intrepid


you pad through mud,

surprised, still,


by consequences.

Ever quaintly analog,


if not bimodal.

Why not run


(in your head)

the tape before


the gun?

& wonder at its bolting,


its savor,

its salvaged & oft-reflected



Then sell us,


until the deal

is sealed:


no story

‘til there is.




Once enough

or else at times—


sub silentio &

sub rosa, if not


nunc pro tunc.

Res ipsa (speak for me).


Psych (out).

The timbre of her voice


(a wavelength that defines you)

the terror of its loss,


the grating fact of it.

None of it novel,


every bit strange.

You & not you,


your desire & your

embedded thorn.


Posted 02/23/15
from "This Visit" (BlazeVOX books, 2015)
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