Courses and learning take their course:
rivers are a head and a direction,
moons are miniature planets melded astride
ellipses without ears.
Vague outcome depictions are the plan via
statistics, and while most would rather not go without,
legibility flails the innocent with its survey questions
and causality defects.
Honor commitments until the debut seventh year exorcism:
jubilant rejections can become all our wiser wits.
Spurn and burn and turn until the grass grow a gross;
so many dozens dozing under illness, dirt, and stone.
Growing up is a missilenomer: you're hit with the ascending
ellipsis, dot dot dot without the plateau's dash
until Morse's morsels find their way to you in
San Francisco and remind you that Paris is Alabama
is Niger is the place where the Endurance got stuck.
You're relative and your relatives won't know it:
they see absolutes while you come to understand your so-called
self as the shelf of a little free library,
easy come and ready gone.
Roman Ryan 