middle voice

The result untold by charlatanesque patrons
all we meant to say we consider writing,
beloved entirely by blurred texts, postface propositions,
inner necessity, modes of instance trace
dull work meant to be seen by prying hands,
loosening the funerary box to ask a small favor.

He is wrecked in dialectical opposition,
terrified and childish, he refrains from speaking.
He forges a model of lies, of complacent orphans,
he refrains from speaking to exult the promise,
whisper through weeds behind his ears, his lost courage,
his grave myth he shatters by opening pages.

He supplements trellises for history, apriority
and docent proffering in aberrant representation,
obvious flags remote and untuned – scenes
for anguished lovers faced with parceled stages
built on hymns, on writing, on arranged
scratches recalling medium, privilege, and imposition.