*cornea*

she sees in subdued baroque
ironwork overlooking macadam
the fey motherfucker
out for a walk
a black draftmatic in his lapel
cankered yew and bagwormed juniper
at the gates
recalling past postures of elegance
shoulders back and breaths
of practiced steadiness and depth
eyes wide or shut
arms to the sides and waiting 
portaque emittit eburna

what sees me into a poem
and carries me through

futility of self analysis

to write worth a damn
confessions courting blackmail