Dürable Diable

Cut deeper than bone can work with,
artistry hurts with deft kisses
rough stone it blemishes between
hits to wounds words become stitches
purpose bends to fit in, language
a second skin, a covering,
a monument all who look on
its engraving quote when they come
to the conclusion, the under-
standing that quotation takes from
one an expression only some
understand, the rest of us can
only attempt to comprehend,

these grand curses cursive courses
deepen while a steady hand’s hold
unfolds, falls open to be held
by those who’ve never before been
told the past has left behind for
us images of the future
to interpret with our eyes turned
heavenward, perceiving inside
what minds underscore by timing
just right the meaning’s return, where
lines conspire to burn what rhymes no
more than silent songs yearn to be
performed, memories we ignore.