What point is there to a cup of darkness
than to pour a little onto the page
and delimit the surge from the mind
of an articulate of faithful knowledge,
not the original apple sigh-der
but a fren, a syllable spelled as it
phones, fren etic is a start
while a goodness, an order,
dire erection of the buildings
that make an undying city,
the vagueness as an indefinite
meander to gath, err, paused,
don't hesitate to go back
because we don't expect it
but the response of the void
when you didn't shout
into it, could make your
life come out of the nausea
of wishing for the music
that might be remembered
longer than you look on the blue
between the clouds.
Roman Ryan 