another day

launched by rising light
 an after-burn of enthusiasms

in tailspin drawn into the vortex
deep soundings taken 
  in the ocean of air
  in the speed of light

I know of no standard for
 measuring the quantities
of want and need 
  coming together
no means for assessing 
   the qualities   of each 
from among   the various species 
    and subspecies of desires
flailing in the net of imagination
 seeking a means of escape

the patois of the  yet untried
permeates my speech
I trade in local goods
 item by item  bartering
  aporia for sweetmeats of substantial release
windfallen fruits from the world tree
meticulous in arrangement
 bruised flesh turned to the underside
singing out my wares
 fallen fruit
 is sweetest on the tongue

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