without fail, all
proverbial hairs
are lined up
by order of their
lengths to be split—
and each
of our mandatory
dominoes is counted
and spread out
into rows, in gleeful
apprehension
of the ruinously
dire chain
reaction to follow.
And then—in the streets
and the homes
where we live,
one by one, at the halls
and the rooms we
do business in—
the processes
begin: insidious
synonyms are secreted
which leach into our
speech and change each
"every" to an "only."
Once enacted,
of course, this vile but
daily transmutation
cannot be redacted.
No wonder, by evening,
everyone's exhausted.
