icicle/mesh.

grand plan of returnal autumns, a
chance throw of tiles and skipped
reminder of glacial velocity that
moves at the speed of light which
is diffused through that very ice

and expressionist coined verbiage
that is honestly a lot more along
the lines of foliage: fewer steel
songs sung in the age of ramparts
and loving oneself whatever comes

of it.. i'm finding myself trying
to impress with wit, but instead,
tending to interisolate, the mem-
ory of which inspires me to plat-
itudes and loose ballet: to play;

i've gotten quite a bit too sharp
for my own persistence of memory,
having written about absence with
presence staring me starryeyed in
the face, like jarry, or leonora:

this is not a poetics of failure,
although we're more than conquer-
ors through him who loved us, re-
placing the space with smoke, and
confessionals underscored with my

own endemic irony, oh, this could
drag me into an early grave, if i
let it, but as honest as i can be
is the man i've been made and for
sure it's a marvelous denouement.