THE PART-TIME DECONSTRUCTION OF TOUGH

The part-time deconstruction of tough

was

going

craningly,

until a martial

moment in the sky

crevassed two giant

rectangles

into

mere.

This is when the world began

to read me deeply,

word by torn

word

from a fen

of looseleaf hours

in the tutelage of dire

quietus. I went to war,

and now

I am.