Displaced
like the chewy center-
of a hard candy
in low orbit
of a toothache
of a toothless
crone.

Phantom
like an obvious mentor
from a hidden college
in stark secret
like mums the word
that sums the word
alone.

Speechless and ringing
in the ear-
we loan to Van Gogh
to hear our
troubles
Best...

and all the timpani of Hope
doing cartwheels
in displeasure domes
that span the width
of our undreamt
and coil-
like a tune in
an afterbirth
of music

Too You to
be Un-
Done.