٣ word wrestles

hoarfrost, iced munitions led
astray by

word, by Word – gift of song
rift of Song

by word        heard wrath, slept
as the chain

of verbs belonged: they woke
in disarray &

chain, the sweat of their mirrors
unbridled now –

morning as errant song, the gift as mend
as the architecture of mould
this would of

wear & mendicancy! how the strain of rinse
builds fences, how it stains
the oak of pale

an unpried zone, withheld with whose bark?
       solitary perhaps with
       saturn’s name, which

saturn, you ask? tuneshot with tuesday’s age
       unhooked perhaps with
       my master’s rage, which

master, you ask?

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