Monday, June 30, 2014


Abiding in a casual perfectionism
Obtuse in its leanings, these fraught dimensions
Try an interlocutor's rapt inattention
To the horizon's fixed belief as it advances and recedes,
Kisses and bleeds; the virtue here is a shout
That tumbles into a dance of ruin
High above alerted plains, where one may enact
No more precise a move than a drive to inspect
What sudden insight spares, smudged
Almost to the point of legibility
In a chromatic moment's cascade.