that one sentence
can both begin
and end
in the present?
Equivocally
speaking, the past
has been evacuated;
the future will
allude us.
There is, in effect,
nowhere left
on the page
to aim
and vent
our indefinite,
limitless rage.
*
We've all heard
of suffering for fashion,
but what happens
when you become
too attached
to an impression—
a light mirage
which is high-functioning,
a mascot
of the marketing genius
pulling out all the stops?
Accommodating
or not,
every translucent bubble
sooner or later
pops.
