Lost Capacity


The lost capacity
to foresee
and to forestall.

Margaux makes fresh eye contact,
fibrous slivers,
a sickly resemblance to
scrambled eggs.

Her plan to elude the elderly
resembles the skeleton of
a shark’s jaw;
the rapidly accelerating collapse
of the Great Dying,
a sulphuric stew
with somewhat more circumspection.

The ice started a fire;
there is no other evidence or 
indicia of truth.

She was fully aware of the power
that came with being ill,
and annexed over the future
of the universe.

Like a perpetual motion machine
outside the threshold of
the church,
something has snapped inside,
evil is not subsiding,
an emptiness of the soul,
irrevocable loss weighing
on the heart.

Irving is giving me
a good spanking
with a shoe.

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