A reflex punctuated in fragmented perspectives,
maintaining a hold on a collective of error.
Slivers, reflective, occupy an exasperating span
penetrating the furor, a rail of delirium
devoted to the weakening of salivary glands.
Beckoning speech is perhaps the most
difficult function. Tingling hands in conjunction
with failed forays into the blind depths
of the mirror keep the situation in check.
And to think – I once proudly decked myself in
specks of syntax. Even my heftiest acts
were distressed in tinsel, spread like haughty fumes
but connecting with poverty
(Which through simple mathematics
becomes poetry.Just trust me on that)
and a well ordered hat to house my head.