Style: the Sibyl’s only available expression.

Reversible epigrams filched as seasonal must

from the fathers. You think assassination

a pretext for kindness. Love in the time of 
              your own good 
                          collar her bag of ferrets,

                          the hide, not the fathoms.
In blau sein, krill spawns iridescent.

Gossip flowers through little devils;

soft-spiked machines a-whorl
                          with bomboniere

                          and thousand-eye confetti. 
She had a nasty way with words. She had

the likeness of words, not the whimsy.
A period woman, the type of which tested

modernism. Pointillist strokes

out-of-hand, the vicious technologies of hay.
             Specious [edit]	regrets [edit].
                          Clay pigeon exhibit

                          in Europe’s far west woods.

                          Cumaean curmudgeonly 
A mirror is a mirror is an over-hung jar

of tender collections.  I once paid for this

tenantry.  Too.  Sharp-fashioned refractions

of your or their Underworld affection.

Great sea farms and oak-leaf fleets;         
                          Joan Mitchell meditations

                          in sprung black, pastoral crimson.