What Had Was
			
			
			Forced of limbs
			
Right
			twice, left one, right
			
The
			combination, compound complication
			
The
			second time and on
			
That
			it picks up distresses it, with the roll at, subsequent in time
			
A
			long series, told in a story as a fix for wear
			
And
			housed in pocket holes
			
Renewed
			as magic or the optimistic though
			
Releases
			all repair
			
And
			all told comes
			
To
			single points
			
How
			forest
			
How
			hill and how the pounding rain sideways at land
			
A
			one, to stand amid and solid to the base
			
Untouched
			unearthly weight the smooth and marble shape
			
The
			inside not the out which is the truth of the things
			
Should
			be professed by senses
			
Hard
			inhuman perfect marble was
			
As
			those too in a row, the first direction best
			
That
			pocket hole and bound there, then they
			
Can
			be never lost to possession as
			
Beginning
			in that hole-,
			
Narrow
			narrow, long shift side and forward, narrow narrow
			
Stretch
			ahead, ahead -,
			
Is
			it it is something to oppose and curl the way a smoke path moves
			
There
			is a twenty margin of the filings
			
When
			collected, silver shards that whittled down was smelted back
			
The
			grand, that’s big and whole
			
Cannot
			stop the scoring of it with an edge
			
And
			pulling hard to rip it roughly
			
Sealed
			the edges with the flame
			
Returned
			to pile it in a mass
			
As
			piled as flesh as with the alter in a European style
			
With
			detail ornament and setting into fitted well worked stone
			
Is
			inset into it the pile, the heap beyond repair of skill or earthly
			vanity deflected
			
It
			is only left, the simplest and easiest, the true
			
The
			under-cultivated stripped of digits and articulation of the sin
			
Into
			it, a smelted lump, the pile, the derivative where else has been
			burned out to soot
			
And
			left to it, the clear and pure and super-heated running stream
			
The
			alter mound, the concentration, 
			
			as
			the piles of dead have would have been, 
if
			they the souls could be so melted down 
to
			one essential kernel every body giving up,
			
so
			delineated, it is set against its side and scored, and sealed, and
			capped, and cauterized 
if
			still in some a coating of a skin of fat not turned to soot inside
			the shaft, 
smelted,
			idols
			
even,
			quickly turn away from them, they turned to water too,
			
and
			erasing any of suggested line that man could make so that remains
			
the
			most unnatural
			
of
			something not occurring even twice akin which is, outside of nature
			
as
			there is a finite rising to the even base and single form
			
that
			nothing has a symmetry it is a human conceit(ed) thing
			
that
			there is nothing we could say reflecting in the holy realm
			
so
			we the they should treat us as the dust, destroying even as out word
			our things
			
out
			scratching even as we rise above the dirt
			
that
			we the they should rub the faces in it to obscure the symmetry that
			was provided
			
in
			our featured faces 
then
			by choice are fallen, lower than the waste which we the they
			provide-,
			
as
			much as are the slaying on the mattress, 
as
			the war at words
			
as
			the frozen how should we the they provide the tool
			
to
			hide the crystal form
			
or
			easily condition to appear to never see it there
			
as
			in the holy way should all decline for symmetry -,
			
a
			waddle when a dance could break,
			
a
			limb 
and
			self soiled
			
as
			the roost is still a vanity
			
and
			heads like full of lice
			
should
			hide,
			
because
			their perfect form
			
conflicting
			with the perfectly declined, the mass, the heap and pile –
			
it
			is a condition, a but
			
for
			how avoidance rules
			
lOCKING
			INSTRUMENTS THAT JOINED TOGETHER SEE PROJECTED
			
iNTO
			THAT FROM OTHER SENSES TUNED TO BE
			
a
			GUAGE gauge GUAGE
			
to
			hold alarms of tight possession
			
and
			there providing from the vapors
			
tHROUGH
			THE SALT BEHIND
			
			
			tHAT
			QUICKLY GROUND UNLESS
			
a
			CRYSTAL OR A FORM MORE PERFECT OR COMPLEX 
cONFRONTS
			THE EYE
			
iT
			IS BETTER THAT, TOO MOCK
			
tHE
			ALTER AND THE STAGE
			
oN
			WHICH WE THE THEY HAD COME
			
aS
			LESS DESERVING
			
tHAN
			THE PILE
			
tHAT
			WE THE THEY REDUCE THE MOST AND USEFUL THING INTO -
			
			
			and
			plan, prepare, and send away
			
as
			it is, the ones could say,
			
it
			was a beaten trust
			
that
			all that, and shifting direction continuous reversing
			
and
			repeating broke the frames
			
that
			were, so thin and delicates the way of any cell way in a body small
			to see
			
inclined
			to be, is, 
and,
			a thing that’s frail in youth coming needs protected
			
needed
			that, the pressure down on it to break it of the path that it would
			take to be, in form
			
rejecting
			that, doomed more as born a gel
			
and
			never born more follower
			
were
			by the nature of the passing
			
aged
			away
			
Away.
			
			
			
			Lewis Gesner