Under the wheel
scripts, code, reports, proposals
had worn out the hinges of my eyelids
a reader's gaze had become a caged distance --
that near world being quite vast
& for some, lucrative --
& now dark half-shells
drawn below the eye sockets
were half-zeroes,
traces of scores spectators
no longer wished to scan
residue deposited by dark events
I should not have seen
syrup poured with the best of intentions
occupied oval stains
When I was able to see well enough
it appeared to others that I could not.
And there are the lost
with no masters save
heat rising up from asphalt
& mold settling
on tomorrow's meal
& the whimpered descriptions
of routes that delivered
Another lash, dear master
I prefer the despot apart
from the one within
Another lash
to slake some secret desire
faraway places further away
Another lash
to waken an angel within
Patron, I understand you now,
your tyranny of slash
your Fantasy in D
performed on a ledge
as smoke rose up around you.
Would that you had seared the flesh
shared the script
X X X
long ago
September 2011