oh, for the imprisonment
of a conclusionary life,
as if everything is named
and accounted for.
where every render
leads to a judgment.
curiosity is just a reach
but never a journey.
referential is a sense of limited domain.
the horizon is for looking at
what might be out of place.
there is a trophy room in the mind
of past shrewdness acclaimed.
common sense is a quick-thought given to task.
astute is an expected compliment forthcoming.
discernment is a thoughtful remark attributed to.
one becomes a warehouse of recalls in reaction.
blame is always the salvia
if not the words spoken.
and tone can have the background sound
of a distant gunnery.
one becomes a curator of their past.
referential is just repetition in the making.
at worst, one is a custodian
of a prison environment,
where upkeep is at least quippy
if not guarded apprehension.
time has a tic to it,
but no toc.
that is already a conclusion ready-made.
it is as if memory has a consuming hobby
and conclusions made,
is its name . . .
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