In the archive of dreams
where the lost words go
an inverted comma leaps
down an Agnes Martin grid
it’s perfect blue, but what’s done

is perfection. The dictionary
concise, and one man’s name
on the cover. How absurd!
Hot magenta zines folded
on William Blake and pages
from a pdf of Sister Outsider

(you know which), but the plates
were too small and I couldn’t
read the prophecy. The walls
say rectilinearity as a characteristic
of my human habitat, but

everything’s sliding down the hill
in short order, geologic...