01:10 am

there is a number for everything
all strange surrenders
and imaginative threads
of stars that predicting move
and men predicted on;
like resonating blackness
of a still night,
the numerals scatter
symmetric in their magnet-dance
and then they write

every step,
every tide, buzzing
with possibilities,
burning intensely to one—
why do I doubt the hold of this?
this puppetry Law
and its fingers of strings
why do I think to flea?
I move a piece
on the chessboard of pieces
and something in me changes forever