for.ego

Ulmus rubra, the slippery elm
half-woke trembling in the underdogs' millenium.

So this is the dusk is it, its
bits and pieces, its conundra;
rafts of starlings tilt and bank
slanting January black.

me, you, you and the waning gibbous

how do you know how you know what you know

Today the morning
moon upends order
and crystals of gout
in knucklebones burst

Today I am what I fear most:
content, hence content-free.