erasing dry, burning green
running cold; will’s machine

diagramma in locomotion
bound, each one to the other
muted notation relocutes
as the breeze resumes abluster

I can hear them talking to you with no reply. It has been a long time.

terror on the high seas, lament afloat the low
the maritime mummy drowns all she sows
colliding crests; calliope, calypso
who is surfing this channel?

a grim and violent lust falls in a squall
disembodied, quite entangled
the deliriant deluge dissolves inviolate law

a grey and virid love furls itself solo
the serene fear dissolates in voracia
prepostasis surwhelms the undertow

here, now:
nocturnal exegesis in agrypniac deposition
suppose agraphic functives follow
what, exactly, then?

the presiding psychotic feels
irides along his neck
the unassuming debt
comes to collect itself

an altogether other
shredded rather asunder

something very else
trails the obliviant bereft

prolonged, reluctant persistence
a windowless room, a lie in state
virgin halls beget chaste corridors
livid door to matte gate

a pulse
a sound
what is that?

something terrible, well underway
with nary an early tick
and the summit-settled preying poet
hasn’t seen anything yet

his one blind spot and sole begotten
knows what he cannot suspect
I read it all in a wordless book
and found only one way left

oh
nigh-late young death
hold my breath
and watch

oh
gnoscient love, bedrift ayond
hold my own
and wait