how strange the road at five am
(exactly wakes up computrix)
were it to venture
successful manumission
half-seen and trill and ululation
down dark dawn in the quickened register
a hill I know full well
in My Imagination
simpers to the bay drown plain dissolve
shatters
against black remaindered sheet
scuttling pixels making for the hills
rattling sand an ever-clearing throat
unpathway through a mind and heart
in Occidental counterpart
shut up the clamshell
edutrix
infotainmenttrix
plain sight lurks
sooner still
and comes and comes
and breaks the musing
heart
upon a rock
the breathing heart
upon the margin
and leaves its single-celled
metonymy
a one-note lung
deciduous in tree
clucking for the morning to arrive
knocking its heart up its throat against
the bark
of morn
an ark. Make it
stranger still.