What could possibly constitute
a real change at this point
Every rhyme used up every
timely cliché out of joint
vanishing my sleep time
on someone else’s sleep avoiding
this miserable ejecta
foolish banter that I’m voiding
Scribing for the sake of just
not being brief just for a change
and every lily that I gild
and every deck chair I arrange
so just spool it out and
spool it all out some more
till the mirror is a cistern
and the chimney is a door
Or just wrap it up
unsatisfied and lame
as if any of it matters
as if it’s not all the all the same
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