en

there was one direction
tapering back to a

chance

whisper

where to read these (graced) notes
I now see

the clumsiness of shadow always remains unfinished

n

any likely step that speaks the last part, skips
a dunking

in the saturated origins of ‘if only’

only is one-like, onelicly, exclusively without inclusion

- an iffy fluke if ever there was one

Open

the vat of utter.

An arm for your thoughts
leaving the penny to cry out in name only.

Of numerous wishes I present a piece
dipped in space.

It was a step like any other.

ope

when nearly at ‘n’
the noted ope_s

while not fully expressed yet, there are no qualms in this particular breach

which masks a cushy gadget
for manufacturing letters

blubhub

with one thwack from a punch-line
the boss-eyed lover
faithful to the unend
filed for desertion
one of the million cures
welded to the joke
that had plunged the boot in
to the not so sporting yin

hubbub

op

to be dreamt away from the page
what a ruse

against mistakes raised by embossed objection

a blade sawing at the truth
has no quibble with thwart

o

noted: the next confusion
“don’t mix relics

or we-with-us”

was written on
one side, noticed on the other

as rigorously inexact as
to be dreamt of

o

, as a fanatic might dig for essential distinctions
the page tempts fixation

until a twang of perception repairs
fallen notes

open

leaving a notebook full of inaccuracies as though
it would never close,

blunt impressions gradually cornered by taboo
rampage delicacy, as a fanatic might

Mr Roget’s T - 203 Length

Adv. longwise,

at full length, a crocodile heels to toe from the crown of tandem to the sole of single file, the foot longitudinally stern, the head in front and behind, overall one end in perspective.

on the run

in permanent flight
carefully shuffled errors in distance, made random almost orderly

like a far-flung jumble, winched to neatness
declaring off the rails detachment

before counting the-picky differences between us