Don’t Nail; Bite

Abstractions and vagaries are the engine
and my seven thousand senses are the fuel.
The catalog of five is an offer for 
convenience at an unreasonable price.

It's like the sages said about the seasons:
there are as many autumns 
as there are minutes.

Ease and math and 
the beauty of nature:
all excuses for certainty 
which I not only cannot
counsel; I must flip these tables

and demand not a recount
but a reset
from we and they and me 
and that and this and those

to an impression
tagged to as many adjectives
as ants
working to concerts
whose flutes will lift
every body's weight.

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