the last letter gets too little credit
as the white letters roll on the black screen
filmographies left out the bitter double acute angles
for all they did was snooze and booze and looze
frayed paperclips wiggle irrelevance 
on a digital age, whose cartoons joke about the
sheafs of yezterday, zipping grips on leather binders
pinching sneezes: zooming pheromonically 
into a vizual field taken apart without a sense of noze
we fails the test of ya'll and me when our handshake
is unaffected by the same earthquake, centuries prior Lisbon
or otherwise, zapped into cognitive unbelief
unshaken by zithers or zymphonies
music was always to explicit for our taste
when we are in it for the puzzle, an extra nuzzle,
and the privilege of fizzling before dizzying lights

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