1.

Fiction leads through factual composition to an

arbitrary place of free delight—at the end of

such an arc is Mr. Percy Aldridge Grainger,

slapping his knees and humming through the

beat. Throw caution over the house and it

might bounce back in protest. Throw it twice

and meet me on the other side.
2.

Your doctrine was to be honest always—to

document the truth or else the truth would

never out. To this effect you locked the

message in. I pick up scraps of information and

throw them on the preservation pile ignite

the match for a brief ungraspable illumination.

Feel these rhythms, too complicated for human

players. This is how we dance—you and

I—slightly, without pause
3.

In a nutshell with a mallet

        upon my curves and

louden lots bit by bit

        zigzags fair

the two of us against the world

        princess

is technique

        blood be my thigh

so nearly faultless

        my walls

 WARRIORS!

         shimmer