Imago Iago

Your nuisance is my neck
I flow through you
my heart is my head
through you
and I feel you
your unmediatable impulse
as my very, very own

Detachment calls
I wish I knew
how to answer
I'm jam
peanut butter mouth
my sand wish 
is for time 
to grain without granules
to fall without gravitas
to stop without a meta-ethic:
neither here nor for

I am in...
loss
love
grammarian hell
my elliptical obit
reads: he died as well

Each word scrapes another lottery ticket
cost, lost, every penny
worthy only as tool
money's image is in
finitude, un
watchable, as
signment has it,
I write what I wrote
my visions, my moat


Between the things and me
ten thousand interpretations
vectors hanging from clothespins 
suns vying for the driest crumbling sock
it's not about feats
refractions numerate 
while denominators dedominate
on nothingness, being reels
but extremes are nutritionless food
for mathematicians,
and philosophers,
and wisty anxious poets