tom taylor

parquet d’mornay

red rubber suit from here to the extent of it
morning’s horizon a distant second in flux
of material mention of the sacred hours left
among us declining species crowding all

it is the lesson of the undistinguished to hold
and clear the forms of less underlying themes
than tell the hours to subside into their homes
and force the issue unbeknownst to her name

eye’d afar to no distance but my own in here
is the lesser of many evils all too well known
to be any less than personal and real in these
remoter substances you’ve left along the floor