a when is [human] only when still/“alive” to the naked eye. Our
menace’s specter-rose rise-rises poetic, enveloped by sweet-
tooth/teethed fiends of possibility, non-noxious toxicity. Sure,
writing about others—those choking, loathing others—is a
somewhat ongoing train of deep-seethed/seep-seethed strain or
straining. Inertia nursed needless is still no reason to cease.
Language breathes best among torque-thrummed windchimes.
—poetry published in Vallum
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