Sunday, April 25, 2010

to profess as though cicerone of our tongue





to profess as though cicerone of our tongue,
less the requisite color or diction—
let alone contextual touchstone,

is a bit much, for an upstart. you purport
to be tenth in line, we do not doubt that
at all; we've observed that you are

hooked, without barb, yet suspect
less tackle than bait— a savory form
of chum and so traditionally sound.

but your hasty prescription for a mass in wait
(to its abject objection to propulsion itself)
is seen overshot by the turnout here,

what's more, take note: messages sent from afar,
especially ones at desperate times— not so in Braille
as much in tongues, most certainly shroud an avatar.


3 comments:

Wine and Words said...

Oh Noxalio - What am I doing here? I do try to understand, but I am a simple woman with a Winnie The Pooh brain. I am too emotionally exhausted to unwind this today. But it is beautiful. And I was here.

Noxalio said...

ah, Wine and Words,

i'm terribly sorry
if this caused any
added burden. yes,
it's certainly too
oblique (unfortunately
diaries tend to be, as
you might appreciate,

and this site is,
indeed, a simple diary,
at best).

i'm always glad to
hear from you

and as always
thank you for your
visit and attention,

i appreciate it.

Wine and Words said...

A simple diary? Here? Are you effin kidding me? Holy word warp Batman! 'Tis you that needs a new mirror. And I thought it only me :)