Poetry

The Fall, 18 (262.)

With steady application of logic,
and volition,
and a smattering of endurance
and hand-eye coordination,
my encyclopedia
of the inland empire
might give me enough of a pain threshold
to sharpen my perception,
to use smart rhetoric
and gentle empathy
to focus my being into a physical instrument.
If I perform this drama properly,
I’ll have the authority
to mix electro-chemistry
with savoir faire,
to realize my conceptualization
of esprit de corps,
and turn these shivers
into muscles interfacing
through visual calculus,
a subtle suggestion
in the half light,
enabling me to maintain my composure.

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