Wednesday, July 9, 2014

OCCASIONALLY DAISIES SPLIT THE ROCKS

Among all 
the possible
worlds—there exists 

a blissful 
milk blue one—in which 
the poet

describes perfectly
(without 
much stormy 

flotsam of words
or any 
disparaging footnotes)

the area 
underneath 
each fluke of a curve.

But thankfully
there 
would also

be—mathematically 
more than 
a couple 

in which I 
am no good 
at telling you any of this.

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