Bronchitis

We recite the book,
pace along
in its border, too.

The un-appeal of lone days.
A tonal ring
of good nights.

The palimpsest
Also, of plants. Also,
of plights.

The poster board
of moonshots.
The printed end now in sight.

I restructured the timorous and
revise
it, too.

Rhythm as rhythm
also rhetoric,
only.

The detonated
demotic, now demonized,
only. Calling

to a culling from
the callow,
only.

Rhythms that
side of what’s heretical
(epi-poetic?), only.

Space it,
on order — of rhythm.
We right out

rivers, logicks,
yes, this too; & too,
fur only.