Their hands were clean with the promise of the all-inclusive
But they stained themselves with indifference
To the things that we’d remember
And the things that we’d forget

In the years of ashen succumbings
They jostled us past the nadir
Until we conceded to fold and unfold like waves
Reminded to let ourselves be broken

To let ourselves be dripped into glass mouths with no belly
Every errand and reverse-ripened hour
Sat added to the undying register
Ridiculous-things-I-don’t-understand

They’d gorge on a power blind to the remnants
Of once-was passion
For the provocative nature of knowing,
And for ignorance in the treacherous calms
Of monochrome realms

They meandered in untried trajectory
Dancing on the pities of slaughtered motive
In lieu simply memorizing footprints
Surrendering to the tactics of wanderers and fools

The fruitless seasons spent misdirected
Seeking to undermine the impulse of offendable words
With sidesteps
From trivial unease

They extinguished the simpering embers
Of forty eight hundred wide agog eyes
Fallen from a preconceived vision
Of a crystalline magistrate

And left
Writing lists on the backs of receipts
Of events that never happened
The-things-she-thought-about-before-she-jumped

Stories
That eventually exposed themselves
With wadded up bills
And disintegrated Kleenex
Their sermons ended up in the wash.