Structure Film
March 14, 2013

all the tools I have are broken
rasp teeth askew, fractured chisel handle rebuilt of electrical tape
suck on the vac down from negative 14 to perhaps 12.8
and the iron in the fire – well the fire’s burned low
just enough heat for forging, not enough for star
and the hammer of my hand is born of scars
cracked skin ink-well leaking layers uncouth
for each flawed written thing, towards each blade’s smallest bit out of true
that were one to create absolute precision once
striving might encompass universe
were one simply incapable of failure-to-form
life interest would be pricked aborning
no distance, no trade

all the self I have is broken
fundamental components tangential to pattern
models oft bent, thoughts connected with indecision
and the logic in decision – well the pyre’s turned flow
just enough teeth for scourging, that self’s not food
and the kindle to my thought is layered in scars
flexible heart welling phantoms and mark
each called drawn thing rewards finest blades’ truth
that in transition and revision, combinations tune
deriving universe from, “I Am.”

were one simply incapable of flawed tools
beauty would be a single unchanging number

no difference
no trade

all the beauty I have is broken
this tool worn beyond repair
this self become ill fitting
this pattern become unremitting
comfort then the space between
this broken tool lovingly matched to this one
or here, reduced to cherry’s glow
extruded as wire
let go

that I be imperfection – but of my own will
beautiful transition

Steal this and call your own sole number