.apparently the closest thing to a "faux pas" in poetry is: citation... or at least: the ever grammatical man, template: obscurity; not much can be done, when citing in a poem, e.g. the awe in awkwardness associated with citing N., or H.; the heresy of writing a book: having read some book: prior. no wonder then: when the study of ethics ends, the study of etiquette begins; my, isn't that just one of those one-liners that is... completely unrelated to: what could become the jist of the whole?

not enough life for all the vinyl -
  but just about enough
of roads:
                       with that exception
being:
   not whatever might be my fancy -
or what might be a blue
Monday noon,
                           compared
to a crimson Friday's soon...
     sooner or later: whiskers plucked
from a cat and burned
   in a candle for some: obscurity
     of the act itself; and a spell.

mind you: citations don't really
work -
    i can see, clearly,
                               a lake,
a *****: a mirror,
                            a firecracker
   and a pebble-tongue
                              like an oyster -
                  a mirage, and a miracle;
but esp.: sometimes only for the vox,
a word only for the vox -
   and a word never for the logos...
   a tongue to replace
     a hand knocking on a door -
a gurgling throat
    with a teased uvula -
       rather than a murmuring throng
busying itself
                     with a church bell...

words... cheap as chirps...
               and...
      no... we're not at the stage
   of distancing words from actions:
that some words speak louder
    than other words:
                 and no white knight ladders
of action to compare them
against...
                      reads as plain as:
                                              a tabloid;
no, we're not there yet,
not here at least,
                               that's certain:
that's before we jump onto
the topic of
           lacerating
               the gills we breathe
with when not speaking:

σκεφτομαι -esque- αναπνεω
                     κατω απo                   νερo

(to think is like: to breathe
                                    under water)
      
       a voice in a crowd:
     they call it democractic -
                          that act of drowning:

              coin-flips and
                             waggling dogs' tails...
as some, with their "status quo"...
   as far as i am concerned -
          nothing has ever been
               beside being              in situ;

which was hardly going to be
   a one-man-mission-extravaganza...

too many vinyls,
       and a life that ends up being
a cul de sac...
                                it will hardly
be worth the compensation
      of furthering DNA
                  in a variety akin to:
a continuum of
             a shrapnel consciousness;
    literally:
  the cookie crumbles,
                        the crumbs and
      a fleet
                         of yummy yums
                     left on napkins.