Matt McCloud

Suffering, the Nature of the Story Problem

All directions fail to be four way.
It follows that a person cannot snag a pawl
in immobility. A secant either tears
when it inches, or by a selfsame tic's mouth
converses with its residue.
Either it makes of human scales a stipend,
or it ebbs then closes its double O,
its rank diffidence, its septic twin.
There is no cloister in a mistaken twitch,
regardless the delicacy of its rake to erase.
Bloodless seems the way to go.
It's either that or the corner's corner
secluded to the hilt. But to what fondness?
Precision leaving nothing of hoar as such.
Instead it guts with stripped down numbers
laid out on tour and for effect.

By these means it arrived to be,
"damp gosh" motility knowing
the seamless speed of a weighted box
to be null, the slope's acclivity to be written —
this, even on its home court, turf to brimming
turf. It was simply a matter of crowding
the rendition to the point of out.
And nothing could be done about that.
Facts, extracted of their weight, such as
"will have been swooping" or "have swooped,"
are only remotely themselves.
The vector, satiated on its x, its y,
never sprawls lengthwise, never purls airwards,
never approximates scurrility of angle.
 
 

Landshaaft

The horizon reckons subject to depose,
weather sucking inward, a spill into a rag,
my my automations botched so strewn,
overhauling from flank to center, let's suppose.
Either soluble when slow the leaves dither their below
or amend awhile as humic gauze amassed
in berns to their filaments. Antennae swoon,
wage blight in panache then toil through.
And blisters — hear how they radiate renewal,
raucous each with fragments' brood.
Awol into the coordinates they'll breach
and haul it all for the sere in soil's reach.
 
 

Seen Applied

scumbled into skyline —
overcast, saturated design.

that would be inveighing —
Dutch ground of Champaign,

instance of measured grey
by entranceway of never mentioned.

sleight of agriculture, vast and dense and
against bodies, has its influence.

height from which day's movement —
no veneer, that would reflect,

would be done with a finger,
contact at acting white infected

until somewhere of whatnot lingers —
horsehair to medial wood,

flecks evinced and compromised,
finely dragged, forfeited lengthwise,

velocity not partaking, earth —
tillage barely moves when understood,

feeds into its a-anonymity,
gathers, likened to edged fragility.
 
 

Disengagements at a Certain Hour

that
regardless
the frames
were made
to distend
from
a magnum,
a point torn
from apex

and that
still there
would be
in a
downcast
incident
begot
by a riot
and
fueled from
below

no
anticipation
of a
terminal
ban
calling forth
the complete
obverse
of the
immovable
craw
bit

well
 
 
 

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