restatementness

Abuse is rag daily unkept

blogging is like logging—

crush of waste-implode, a

diva goes warble grate screech

enuf owl to

fetch waking out of insomnia, in-

gratitude, in other blurs,

here’s time incending

into outer spaces at

just the right moment;

Klingons let go & float

laterally into gravity lacunae, so

maybe all words connect after all;

nonstop bright & early

okays being later than

purpose, or sifting motive

quietly before acting.

Raconteurs re-encounter a glyph,

songlike-ish spinning

tremble at lash point,

unless every day’s New Years

veering from falling,

winking (after all, every day’s

Xmas),

yoked to total freedom,

zeroing in