In my e-mail late today,
A message sent through
Great delay: A wallet,
found! A cursed thing
That should rebound
upon my house. Is
it an omen of the future?
What else could bring
That putrefaction?
It's set in motion
The grinding wheels, all
Grating zeal, to
Denigrate my centrist
Lust for simple certainty.
Either way; it's set to
Stay upon my mind.
And on my bookcase, lest
It loose another set of cards.
