In Order of Appearance

We held to the bone
of fact, while the
marrow escaped our
grasp, and the seasons
spun out of the radiant
center of the pupil,
falling into the lexical
gap, a lyrical trap,
the black shoes march
the narrow boulevards
of oblong markets
and obsolete tram-cars,
and flittering past
the light of the stars,
the apex of andromeda,
intertextual dialogue,
winking glow of CRT
labyrinth, a mobius
horse-shoe of shifting
luck and hyper-
real radio waves,
resonant antennae of
lucid metaphysic, an
oriflamme of unchecked
desire, a forge
without fire.
Of order, and fate,
chosen, of words
thought - not spoken.