Awake upon the path littered in my wake
noisome memories left behind
rake you through the loom
That leads along a lie at last that love
alone would loathe to live
lost, leaching, and laboring
Nevertheless, and always the lesser
—
crescendo cedes to climax,
tilting misconception 'til conceived
inn-errantly
Awake upon the path littered in my wake
sidewalk cracks along your face
parlay my passing eyes
Into pell-mell passersby, tripping
—
perforce
a plenary pile of persiflage growing
peu à peu, like paellastrami phyllos
A human portmanteau.
The center cannot hold unless the roots grow deep
Grow your roots son
Grow deep