This wash of fatigue makes the inevitable almost bearable
because the edge
the edge was already lost/dulled/destroyed/forgotten/dismissed/dismayed/disbarred
so candidly (so fuck your chocolate bar) and all your
other vague distinctions, vague distractions
Are you worthy of this geometry? are you worthy of this
bullshit? (who wrote this?) some recently deceased
harmonica (oh those little poets) and I do not wish, but
oh I do wish—
I wish I could find the evidence (I’ve changed my mind)
fuck those
unreliable fuckers and take this instead
(I’m going to live like everybody else) all my selves, ensemble, grieve and drip
but this
This is the inevitable, the “this” rather than “the” or
“that” but still the only almost bearable
edge
(smear)
The backdrop was torn and what shows through: another
veneer of another veneer
you no longer need to see, say, pronounce, you no
longer need
to find/seek/discover/impart/distinguish/
the edge the evitable you see
The edge
was
already lost
