A precious error | Hoard it like an egg | in times of dearth | Making | shapes in mist | A luminous void | at the core | calling and | rejecting us | Fill it with | handfuls of dirt | skins of | consumed fruit | clumps of ashes | They turn over time into | jewels or sails | toads or mountains | we have | little say in them | but keep seeking | a stake in them | Backtracking | zigzagging | over the problem | shaping the problem | into solutions, solutions | into new problems | If there were no ice | there could be no skating | one of the skaters | calls as she passes…

Old monuments | after erosion | standing | Earth, ash, egg, death, hearth, heart, hurt, wind, heat… | The mind in its frills | its petals | plethora of folds | sumptuary laws | a subtle volcano | spewing out | shades of pale lilac, ochre, cream, shadows | of swifts in motion | over the river | possible | interpretations | denier | confusions | small | boxes of sound | laid out on silence… | Grazed | knees | a torn sack | of old bones | the fluid | coffins of our rhetoric | a weary | need for the rough | bald | harsh | knock of abutments | flounder of cuts and scrapes | bust-ups and contusions | rock bases | a place to fall | when we are falling… | a place to end | when we can’t keep | but beginning…

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from the series fleeting pixel (series of 1,000 poems, 2012–2016)

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