The words she chose
were the old ones
the ones whose definitions were Webster’s
–staid like that–
lacking even a hint
of colloquialism, gradation or banana cream pies
creating a background hum
and largely disregarded
as the habit of time
in a watched pot
(nearby)
coils over, slithers and strikes!
(without even one switchback)
Changing everything in an instant
to which it had been building all along
–on the DL
–on the QT
in that pot of watches
whose functions were diminished
by Dick Tracy first
but ultimately Apple
that started the whole thing
–in a garage?
–in a garden?
–in agreement?
it makes no difference
in the end
(of time)
and cessation
(of words)
or downfall
(of man)
even an emoji Jesus
could predict that
–whose 5 slaughtered fishes
lacking the power of expression
–colloquial, gradated or otherwise–
concealed unimagined pain.
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