Messages cannot be coded into gas, the pen-tip
dissipates it wordlessly like cursive ink splotch.
Even in a room of densest Radon carving
sparklers through the air,
intentions taper off and smudge
without recourse for data.
If you spend a lifetime trailing aphorisms
in a woodland pond, no greater legacy succeeds.
That formless water cupped by fleeting
stasis, dips at pressure,
rippling with consequence but
never to achieve retention.
Up to twenty characters can be engraved on this
gold ring, please choose them sparingly.
Complete this waiver stating you accept
committed terms may
lose validity and yet preserve
undead expressions.
Then there is the other state of matter: frames
electrified in neuroplastic cycles of the self.
Your outgrown mantra slips from use,
and rushing to replace it
loose dynamic inferences that
mark progression.
It took me a good long while to shake the academic tone,
and most of the stuff I wrote around this time I can't stand,
but this is one of the few exceptions.