when poise goes pause, where the concrete
cracks green moss tracks
ere our toe trips or shoe slips against what remains from total noise gone
mute.
when flour bleeds yeast.
when
cymbals refer to the thing and not the sound. how the
horse did step
down to hit the hi-hat too late. Or
worse: how hoarse that voice
not
heard but smelt.
where words await some tonsil shift, a cough, a
con enough for finger tap to trap the past from postulating (just not
so rough) when the cuff does catch,
causing gears to grind. when forks
grin and go slack. where cheshire
crumbles: from
cheese to
cat
to
county to
silkscreen icon of revolutions wilted in pre-shrunk cotton
collapse, where colons
hinge: clean sheets,
close shaves,
constant
syndication, pap. where capital lowers the case.
when words will
warm
hearths capacious given
all in all. when wanting
wanes the way
cranes could build branches for a new bank as easily as caress existing
branches built upon this bank of mud. when
corrosion yields to erosion.
where
sleep may seep from crow's feet like so much sand and hands hide some
handsome dreams. when humor harbors the space where
tumescent lemurs
trace their luminescent tumors,
when thought of the thing becomes the
thing thought
of.