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.