Folded Rage

It's an unhealthy dulgence
That's known
A common tract
Rolling hills of obviation
No confirmation necessity
Abundant truisms won't slow
A buildup believed to be inevitable
But that is the myth
A gorge narrative that didn't
See the mechanical scooper
Taking the dirt out and running a pipe
At the top of the river

Flatter earths than thou
Skitter before the sun
Light switch Kafkatch
Latched to its insecticide
Like a paper to a struck match
Is it alive with tortoise
Harely ready to race out
And cheat death with that
Philosophic rage against 
The lying in the night

There's another way:
Fold, ensconce in the impulse 
And the environment
Wrap the blankets of cause and effect
Around the feats performed 
For performance sake
To slide a paradox under a stuffy nose
And sniff out many-sided origami

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