Cento from Versal 8

As long as the court listens,
you still lack a function. Do not fear -- function
softens the suture
we called home. If I lived there for a year, it was
your permission to move away
that bangs inside the mouth. The scarlet ink packet
that the sun drops, wrapped in smoke, towards the east.
To begin the allergic game,
each draws out the sword carefully stored
until the 1980s.
Humming a German folk tune & smiling
despite not understanding enough of the what
that later followed,
I came upon an arrow or a spear poking skyward,
running right to the margins.
A sleazy siren, decked in white,
let me stay in the morning. & I'll read you the backs of cereal boxes
once. He was a pair of fins, a rogue. & tidal
changes, tiny & secret as a warning,
made me look like a whore.
This will stand as your apology,
without opening the body.

Versal 8 is out now.

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