--- W I L L I A M   M .  G O T T L I E B

	whorl foot to wind

Why will that a black-hot wildfire
spread rapidly as light, why wile
away your eyes from widely wifing
the drawn world, away to this widowly life
in Will’s wiggy wilds where dark wights –
					letter-creatures
crawling into your features –
seek souls solitary as a reader,
why will this would of words to wily pupils
if not to make them weep as will-
					owy
trees in the willing day cry beautifully?