I have a mouth full of nothing
and a head full of dust.
Nothing should be louder than it has to be.
Really, it needs to be louder than it is.
Necessity and practicality
are form following function
into the depths;
need needlessly preceding
actuation and utilization.
The permutations of
"the devil is in the permutations" are
the unforeseen repercussions:
unknown reverberations in an empty cave;
the avalanche of order becoming apparent chaos;
noise from melody; cacophony from creaking polyphony;
the Greek leading the Latin into the vulgar,
that bastardization of language, that melting pot of forms;
the fomenting cauldron of lack and happenstance and opportunity;
the operational operetta of oedipal angst;
an open ordering of opposites.
First impressions matter most
when most impressive matters
are pressingly foremost.
The arbitrary etiquette of knife-fork-and-spoon placement
is everything.
Make up your mind.
Make it matter.
Make it matter for molding.
Make it moist.
Wake up your most important matters
and get them to the breakfast table,
that familiar chameleon mending its ways,
that chameleon familiar wending its maze
and by-ways and highways,
dodging the bullet, fitting the profile--
diaphanous, diffident, and alone.
It has filled my head with holes;
hollow testimony to my self-abuse,
my self-neglect and my amputated ego.
...puttin' the Po in NaPoWriMo...
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A Prayer Like Gravity 