Autumn

Of course he said and then
the arc of one good kick broke through 
there would be no penitence
Penitence no shipshape (not for us for
Some litmus shanking the bother
To subtract at last (How many
Slivers of silver would you defray
Most you go away to Cosumel
Smiling the away point flow as though
Your everyday hurt once in a while
Then often I might admit to a replay
Sourced in stasis the shifts no one
Could repay the avarice the list
Of pearled parables the raking
The fire the football fragrance of
Walking toward the installation of the game

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