NEW

NEW

old Ez
told me
told you

to treat each word
like a wooden block
a carved wooden block
bearing
    the ideogram perfect
    for this spot

but all these words in
some kind of crazy pattern
Canto after
    Canto bouncing across
the page

and you in a cage
caught flirting with fascism
seduced into this madness
by Renaissance
economics
        by Oriental sage

and your guard
        kind of like the boy next door
nothing more American
than his
    Thompson sub-
machine gun

your thumb snagging on the wire
a droplet of blood
to attest to
        true causality

keep it simple, Classical,
make it new

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