vowels like o,i
under approached sequences only forgotten because they were never known
and misforunate glances, sights of monuments lost
to wayward empty silence hope
and gained a sense of sentiment for
what once stood there.
the trills of a bar chord, and the patterns recognized in centuries
as the fences, keeping one side out of the other, maintaining order in the gaps where one part dares not attempt part away, with what it, knows
and yet the strength of the actor- is the better part of the emperor-
ringing stringlet of the long desceased's hair, protect this avenue please
and know that you got your affluence, from the deepest respect of discipline and honor from strangers
so reach back into the town squares and say hello to the bandstand and the buildings, awnings and the storefronts, sewn with chocolate glass, pasted in sacred plaster and snug between clamshell sidewalks, holding the mortal remains of fathers dead in 1831. A generation after 1760. No one is a part of it, it's in the lived head - and fifteen years is finally known.