today we damage     a specialist region     it shrinks

or it stops optimally firing     perhaps we shook

excessively     or bonked ourselves ringing on a rock

we strain our matter to remember     a cortex maybe

or we unnerved     one of our campuses     our lattice

is tatters     we work our fringes     to a lather

nothing smooth     nothing round     remains so

we are supposed to like climbing     body and mind

inside one another     often     or on request     in spite

of our trembling     or because of it     let us stay

in some form of hiding     but let us not be decoupled

let us not be decrepit     we were warned     were we not

about decoupling     where that pattern leads     or were

we only warmed     against our will     as by an unadvertised

opening act     whose purpose was to delay us     everyone’s

pitching     but there are no batters     we gather here today

then scatter     nothing smooth nothing round     remains so

in our monoculture of elliptical query     of blatant decay

our envelopes returned to sender     kibosh our negotiations

obviate our overtures     our eyes onion-stung for days

by ramifications     an injury mistaken for a blemish

worsens     nothing round     nothing smooth     remains so

let us prop ourselves admirably up and heave ho the alveoli

our bedside a disintegration altar     how might we come

more readily to the reckoning     our accounts having become

another train     we can’t run fast enough     to jump onto

handles hurt us when we try     overcome by nothing yummy

overcoming nothing     not even our comeuppance

not smooth     not round     not even the numbers