and Yes, our Yankees win

between an experience
and its expression, the

pink dark tonsil replicates
after a hardening poem

scaffolding, tatters of
aphorism, off-plastic cement

presume gold wrung, up-
raided, appraised, woven

evil tongue to an evil eye
Fauvist read! esconced in a

kennel of statement, once
of simultaneity by abeyance

Loss verbalizing amidst Gar-
gantuas, and arid plateaus,

the Egyptian coda; witticism
smoked upon blue tenement

cedes a censured pod for
cackling falsity mourned

“call it rest, call
it flight, name it freight

(I name it night)”
and Yes, our Yankees win