This siren inside my self produces another linguistic surface:
A magnet for guilt: measured in degrees: measured in pitch:
This siren quilts: another Lacanian surface: inside my clean being:
Five rabbits run: across my bike path: One AM:
Five white tails: leave multiple traces: against the still-wet field.
My extraneous thoughts blur: glaring into one long non-thought:
And I follow five metonymic tails: dash like longings further into field:
This transmogrified moment: is worth more to me: than math: I've
striven
For: listening to time: begging all my beautiful: orange sins forgiven.