I compose a most delicate email
Facially granite, uncomfortably myself
Why would I take credit when I can share credit
Be the reed dad or the tree dad
In which my lapidary fears become like unguents
To help in the defeat
Of gravity, friction, the strong force
Let the weak force arbitrate!
The best sentences demand punctuation
I compose my fixed idea
If poets wrote laws and lawyers wrote poems
Three trombones for the wolf
Prowling the edge of a thousand lakes
Only to live in a kennel beside the lambs
Inscrutable is an onomatopoeia of eyebrows
Illegible for muscles around the eyes
Incomprehensible resides in the temples
Impossible in the shoulders and the chest
I hold my neck for abstruse
Stroke my forehead for abstract
Obscure crawls chilly toward my elbows
Hostile in my truculent hips
A blur drips riverine footward
In the rattling shadow of monuments
Are aging and living the same thing?
I compose my composure
Piecemeal as non-fiction
But you know what I am
Do you know what I am?
If Peter hadn’t caught the wolf, what then?