The recursive control of control

Control enters the body
like a pinky finger shift
lifting one thumb to wedge

Enough space between phrases
so that the breath may catch 
the drift

Shorter shrifts roll down
hill, waiting to be pressed 
up again, against the grainy

Image of place where we
wished to go, though now
that we know that it snows

We stow our desires in the 
tired fire, a retired liar,
desisting in the face of want

Expect to expect and automatically
defect; such defects reflect 
a vigorous detection of 

Too many wants,
too gaunt
to haunt