To be contemporaneously bound
in meaning, however much precision
overcompensates—
To be tied down, like one is, by that
there's little hope of growing out of
it is
just not bearable. Or else it lights a
growing fire of discontent that's
terrible.
And whether our deficit in meaning
is but a thing perceived, and is not
growing—though
comparatively's growing every day.
This specter of diminishing returns'
no murmuring
yearn, and owes to precedence it's dues
of lessening.
