Life of a Day
This day
of lurking June,
Only ink flows,
In the life of cool jazz, so soon,
Lost in syncopated truths
Of a simple birdsong
Released unto rhythm and language,
Rendered unto conspicuous climaxes,
In an ocean of words,
In elemental stasis to inspiration from the commission,
Of several surprises risked by bubbles’ breathes,
On surfaces where staying Silent is the largest tool.
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