Potassium and chlorates boast of their oscillation lists. Both look down and see a blade of sedge whistle, handcuffing a tiny load of buckshot in a slender gust.

Confound more, the glue is drying to dry. 
‘Polls’ down. 
No truth merges thru transgression / you well know 
Bad news just walks in — 

It’s ok. Just punishment 

for obfuscating more conscientiously, touching dual roles in the expectations-slogan — desultory of us to ‘read’ and re’read’ brutality ritualized, extending to your one body, cancelling our love,

always for the first time beneath infinite ceilings.