The Low Low

Confines confide via
bona fides, demeaning
progress in favor of
ideal, certified certitude.

Filters cannot gray out
the untutored reluctance
whose negation compounds
into resistance that finds

the asymptotic, lettered 
law. Flaws flow through
each and every tone, 
substituting bones for

constitutions and
superstitions for an
exchange of values,
shallow for naught.