maybe it's totally spawned by bitterness because anything I had resembling holiday weekend plans with friends (it's okay, i shoulda figured) got totally blown off, but i wrote for the first time in months, and it's the first thing i've actually liked in maybe... a year?  you know, i never ever write to this old lady, and if i do it's NOTHING special/interesting, but i'ze high, it's 5 30 in the morning, and i'm really enamored of the fluctuating half rhymes.  my god!  is that my horn?!  really, i hate myself.  aaaaaanyways:

mine own

Say: to call a word by its indefinite,
interpretations, oscillating and infinite,
which are its eyes and hands;
the eyes and hands of the word.

So now, yellow's every
coward, and each cadmium.
Canary and chrysanthemum.
Each word's its shadows' overlap.

"I" is me, and simple. 
"You": you, and everything not mine. 
In the discrete definitions of its being,
"we" transcends ourselves, and redefines.



p.s. i also took the time to post this at my NEW real-life blog (VUH-OM) which i've took the time to link to:  http://skeet-shoot.blogspot.com
you'll be happy to note that thus far into its gestation (it's been 9 mos.), i've posted three times, one movie quote, one unlabeled stevens poem and now this.  life is exhilarating when you write about it online!!!!!