two questions for trilobite

Ted Rees

Sermon When Our Enemies Are Winking

Static is not

proper as descriptor

flutterin’ the shallows

come “neuronal ensembles

brain-wide,” wide if

one entire fool

me, still yet forced

into consolidation

so the question’s nil—

remember

observing the diving bodies

of terns next the carrying

place in August length,

there like boulders of accrual knocking:

broken face, uh-huh,

dead friends drunk,

tender smacking or

The Hat Lost to say

nothing of my spine

when he climbed atop,

mist cladding

a delicate meanness

in his mouth.

2CT7

that thus my simple

tackle where the pie

is everywhere, stuffing

too, with pie and instantaneous

awareness of programming, congee

fragrant in its pools—

claim is this shanty

to speak

scarcity

illusion

unplussed

piety NAY

what I intimate of others’ pain SANTA

threshold would I hook

myself YES in mouth

or synthesis— NAY

when yr in a moral

schism just flounder

a little butter

pinch salt, lime

to tenderize where

a calculation might      wander,

just SPOOGE on it, man,

it ain’t a sin, the shouts

should persist, dread

they do.