you will never meet a child poet prodigy
so young as to play the heart's cello
so early as to be a prodigy
worthy of a father's sur-.
never you mind the clone,
clone on paper,
but still the disparity of
experience: a landfill of care,
might one foot take
footing in the mythical mist
of the once breathed into care
for ink print an atheism revealing
the myth lost, and in the natural
environment a lost caress of wind
that once was the zeus of spoken tongue
leftover alpha and leftover zeeta...
phi and theta, or woodwind spoken of
omega... and so cherished
the undermined clay was baked into chess for a
pawn's move that could undermine the king
in equipping the queen's parameters.