The diagnosis was god, twice a day until the spirit
untangles itself. I took a trip into unscripted days
past, teenagers submit to the window an open
facing yawn. A walnut fell into the grave
of my loved one and stayed there beating patient
like a word. I was still unmoved by disbelief watching
my father mumble the pledge and hot white stars
he can’t remember. Nobody got hurt, some un-
fulfilled potential exits the room. Enter, knowledge.
Men came to dispel ambiguity and raced
my intention to a hard boiling over. Each new decade
we stayed was a misinterpretation
of genre. We showed our teeth over the years to those
who would listen. In the face of the absent subject
I felt my desire go flaccid. The leaves fell dutifully one by one
from their limbs. But I wrote to you against all odds.
Money. Paperwork. Love’s heavy
open door. Critique. Indignity. Vision and often
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