I’ll copy Creeley singing to Wieners or it could be vice versa,
Both old masters
Who never spoke for love,
Not equipped 

to weep 

—
Who is? 

— on a brassiere stool overlooking time is money plaza,
Neither could express feelings about delimiting time. A truism is tart.

That everything once alive is precious like time is precious.
That “Having no time to spend” comes off as counterfact in a pas
De deux coming apart
— slipping on pieces of tracing paper after the ballet
That makes a racket
Even as we withdraw from coffers of the wicked deep.