STRUCTURE AND SURPRISE

If the facts

are all plot, and

the plot—simply

details, and if 

words are just hollow magic

tricks to make the wind 

appear more reliable

and solid
than it really is,
and if

even our bravest intentions

to convey what's merely
literary—are only

the shards

of some
shattered, shared

soul of a
soundless-in-vast-perpetuity universe

which is moving forever

toward frozen oblivion 

without ever really changing it's direction—

Then what?
What's left? in that landscape

to survey?

I see only these

stray epiphanies—crumbling architecture
with some pretty

cool gargoyles
peering back
from the rubble.