From the tree that enters the less simple leaf, from the town that enters the exhuming cloud, from the tactic that leaves the data, from the each as every, with scores of violence, or just language in its dogged rock, so simple the previous declension, a ride of decline for the moderate haze, keeping sentences as relaxed perimeter until we can speak again, newfound ejecta along a simple road of diary and distraction, alert after words but not before: Savour the different avenues while speaking, then, now, at least, speak
poems, fireflies...