Tuesday, May 31, 2016

PLAUSIBLE EXPLANATION FOR GOOSEBUMPS

All day, every
day—little by little, so you
barely notice,

unqestioningly,
the real world
rushes up

to coddle you.
Without asking,
It quietly numbs

and gently sucks
and melts away—
but with such

deference
and so cloyingly!—
impoverishing

the grand
but astringent purity
of acute possibility

with its bland and edgeless
little packages
of actuality;

each,
like one
of so many

obtuse ice cubes floating,
shimmering,
slowly

diluting
your morning
coffee.

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