this gentle aphasia
washes over us like fabric softener.
there is excess
then there is power
autocycling its load
spinning us semi-dry.
the clothesline goes bung.
one of the important strings
has become unstrung &
as the swing-set on the plateau
projects arcs eastward
a stray cat gorges on extra whiskettes.
what are the best odds you can give me
on the west winning back-to-back millennia?
the boundary street festival promises
to be the most memorable yet.