put down your pencil!
five words can say a lot; only is a noun.
I'm not thinking about any
of those first times, come
what may, it cannot be
to a doubter, you say
something, anything about life
letter-pressed in impermanent ink
it says a lot, the
remains of another fateful day:
the elegy meant something then,
expressed in a minor way,
the pain of being cut-off
chronic habitual meaning evades it,
our inner automan in redolence
a reader to ripple-effect
focusing on spots of time, s p o t s ...
these spots are evasive everywhere,
dissolving before and especially after