That bold disinclination
of a sliver
of civilization pre-sets with discretion

in a movement’s continuing
long elision

Instead of preening to utter a blow
in small pockets

of substance being

stuff of eclipsing at last
take a word to speak

Your long your serpentine moods your
birth and muted strangling


A pre-selected throat resting
signs of all other harmonizing

betting solely on course