The physics
of uncertainty
sends the poem parts of me
below,
made scarce,
the rest to better
wobble
'cross the wire.
From bed
to dawn:
the daily toll;
the grocery slot
secured;
a kiss;
collapse at 2am;
all met
with impassivity,
not verse.
The gray-
of-morning bird
attempts
to prise a lyric out,
sings D-C-A.
I check the news.
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