A selection from Fragmented Olio

FROM THE SECTION BEHAVIORS

Between

This pageantry of landscape
—land as soft moments not
of hurry or desire to splay
toward alternate meaning, a
blush of misfortune. Today is
a dangle of marbled light, an
algebra of sun walking between
halls’ faith and the home formed
between the embrace of seasons and
aggregated warm names.

An alter, an improvised becoming

You’ve begun your transvaluation: your
mirror, soon, will no longer agree

with what your body projects, speaks
into layers of disparate insinuations. The

body is not. Wasn’t. You pretend
and understand imagination is

functional amid the only rendition of
truth factual among an alphabet’s

alternate publication. You say
is pain? The rhetorical submission

of silence’s orchestrated rhythms
ignites theory and obtains ponder as

nuanced permission toward the
gradated teem of eventual winged absolving.

Your singing is

not a waiting for response. To pretend
is to exist within the smallest space between voice and hear. You’ve
wanted. The volume of your mouth is pure, summer. In
relocating the lyric. You’ve found it. The listener is studying, a
subconscious devotion from the childhood of ingurgitating noesis.
Within the darkened room, whisper is beast. Nothing is unheard
in the notion of every spoken freedom is visceral devoted clarity.