Like stark nib’s snubs on paper,
you passed me by at exactly the time that
I passed you by. Pittance for your words was
your reeking polemic, as you scribed lines
on the soles of my feet. The quill passed calf
and cuff, soon covered my body and spoke on my
tongues like I’ve never spoken. I saved a thought
in those odd hours. We agreed:
enough’s enough … Now, to name the great forgotten would be
to diminish the great remembered.
But who deserves such tardy harassment
but the great.
Like the grim dimension of some recollected slough
or the even and collective precinct’s filthy invasion.
Grey and coalesce, the mismatched mounds.
Tunnels beneath so smoke hangs like laces
to tickle the lifeless below;
frolic with fickle below.
It was a grand idea that flickered in the blaze,
that licked into consumption,
so could only flutter to the four winds,
untraceable, forgotten. Gone.