Point moot
Don’t shoot
I’m mute before
At counter, order,
Disorder dependence like cats and
Whatever string, more sing letter
Wrecker, that’s a poet for ya
Crossing the parking lot
Talking to himself in time or
Some turn of headlightrime–
Sense make with fenced lake,
Commas and quasicolons built for
Shade — nothing made but speech,
Not the lecture but for set weather.

9/21/14