a poem for today, 4 January 2012
[a letter sorted sonnet in nine sentences with its image]
At the bottom of the chest cavity was a lump of pink flesh.
No, questions of knowledge are not innocent questions.
You get to steer, but you'll also take the brunt if we crash.
You got one of these that does asses.
We said we were ready for this and they took us at our word.
It's all okay as long as you are on vacation, a business trip or it's a celebrity.
I love those moments, I love to wave at them when they pass by.
It is just a little hole so imagine a piece of tape over it.
What all of this has in common is the lack of any tidy conclusions.
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