always an industrial-type dreamer
drove a vehicle conditioned to
hold a cold-hard, pavement stare
and a gentleman's pace (would eventually, win every race)
the bigger secret though
tucked up top an ivory tower view
timid shame sewn from an insidious seed
flowered the idea, that maybe, you could be incomplete
watching, seeing every which way
a dream takes you in her mouth
hinged-jaw swung and swallowed-whole
does not intimidate in the least
there's nothing more, nothing less
no insufficient progress
perfectly imperfect
it is as it was meant to be
we'll play the witness
behind our own, enamel-covered swells
everything that has been written, and that will be
we are just now learning, how to read