They Will Sew the Blue Sail

Sunk Costs | Siel Ju

Between the briefly noted derision

and the grin there was a certain lack

of cohesion that fascinated me,

that sublimated cold my attempt

to keep things at the yam level. Rap broke

free from the tyranny of syncopation.

The best lines were redacted. I used my face

as a swab, soaked up the ooze in the

interstices of ampersands. Every mind

was the spondee of my mind, the last I rode

for some time.