A poem is like a scale
an ache an instrument
that plays a day by day
kind of gig by which
to mix and match
the tears of things
and to replace the
outside seen as in
a painting of the
inside among those
who lack the insight
the memory according
to those who lack the
love the learning and
to repeat the zodiac’s
reach each animal
contributing its
consonantal best
each planetary god
its moody vowel
everything in all
at once and rest
and up and down
the tortured scale.
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