cipher and mud

this is an evasion
(from above)
a god
a runic duct used for roadway dribble
an intellectual who owns a cipher
(and also owns the mud)

we see a certain laplander farmhouse—
to no mayor his interlocks
to no farmer his lockjaw—
exposure is hearsay
to the fourth delphinium

i object to this manner of writing
i object

there is nothing but the abject shock
the slaphappy cudgeling life provides

turn the other cheek
go on

good

now on your knees

What I’m Reading:

I’m almost certain, though I am certain
of nothing. There is a solitude in this world
I cannot pierce. I would die for it. 

— Ada Limón / “Drowning Creek”