I put you on the stage where you feel comfortable not looking good, not sounding. Then I put you on the stage again where you decide to extract a vibrato from a place vibrations ought to be, deciding further that the people looking stageward yearn for you. And I believe you tell yourself another thing not one of us will bother to interpret. How could we check our work?
I put you on a stage so I can leave myself atrance, and I am not entranced when I look at the stage. Every so often I look at it, and tell myself pronouns are handy. Pronouns help us carry baggage. Pronouns are intact and quaint. Were you saying something?
I put you on a pedestal you made yourself, and I would vote for the probability that each time you use it, you project another builder and another. I would further say that you decide each of the builders lives for you and longs for you.
I put you on record so I can prove that I was here, when in fact I was not here at all. I was instead confirmed as present and accounted for in past tense, where I lived comfortably, rent-free. From that vantage point I looked from a white dock at the country of my heart that matches perfectly the very bluest of salt water mirroring the sky.
I put you on hold; I dazzle my learning with the scent of consequence to come. I plan the cold renewal of once blemished heart, considering a way to cradle what I am and how I used to love without an obstacle. What obstacle could stave off perfect love? The many numbers capable of being rounded to near selves begins to stagger me. I think that I will go lie down now that you're planted on this stage. I tell myself another thing you could not prove, even if you were to listen closely and define.
From the Balcony He Watched Music Pour from Silver
He did not speak.
He heard the simulacrum
of sine wave enlist his sadness.
Apart from her he felt the music
take her place. She took a sample
of the melody, released it to the room.
They each would walk away.
The place from which he watched
was never filled with tune.
He sensed the needle draw
the faculty of hearing forward,
form a line from her to him.
She noticed how the music left her
to become the music and the instrument
he had been hearing all his life.
Along the staves a stammer left
the little hill of whole notes
clear, considered full, as if
to parse a sostenuto.
If I Could Make a List of Everything I Have Not Thought Of
transitive verbs go slack
against prevailing clarity
as the lariat of tumbleweed
sweeps/gathers from the field
the trends and tendencies
revealed in their assemblage
let's take a dip in the dry
river/tend supply side
omnipotenti while the dithers
that arrest fall guys foster
lachrymose endowments very
plural even as they mimic
stores of qualifying plants
and mulch upended by impulsive
wheels unguarded in determined
functions ratcheted up the cha
in prolonged in indentation
called upon to prompt and press
the sides and surfaces for signs
of water despite evidence of
contraindicatory spokes and upward
piercings of the earth as if
to point to an agreed-upon
to-order vastness of a sky
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