Wednesday, March 28, 2007

a daily piece

we never realised until
that we’d not connived inside
as raising order and the yard
our hero was, the sky

of that daily piece, its poor
deforms a way that fears
a left thing slightly butterfly
a tap in firmament, direct

light is reaming distance
more that’s separated
then together to an ocean
the illumined system, never

hear seas of the flawed totality
that’s torn a brigand of the ether
a veil was to reveal me this
and all within, the zone

and distance, as surely I approached
its digging continued angles
motives of a food, alfalfa saturates
reputed forces, a layer

the flagstone’s vector is a time
one remains, computer as a place
with that crow, whose nevermore
is the crosspiece, my irony

still, here’s pieces of the way
along that bird of speech
they wait with my internal part
that caws with which, and more

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