Roman Ryan

Emphases, practices, impulses -- 
may there be a posture that overwhelms
all that has been dashed
in this indistinct cosmos
seen again, today, without glasses.

My glasses are fully empty
and the eyes behind them
look hard, too hard,
to find some kind
of I. 

And yet the pattern between my ears
has a ledger book
listing all the bready debts
pained for with 
my cheer.

How to mine that mind back up
from the coal-stark deep
where canaries line the floor
warnings lost 
to me.