To describe in chapters our life's fables,
pen pauses pending, our white pages glare;
wordless lines cancel Contents in Tables.
contest content-ment, if you won't write there.
So skills we own are forever not tried,
the true non-world; sheer air is all we've won;
and now we seem most fit to now be tied,
simply because we are the most un-done.
Often we see how the air has trembled
half to life when rain might almost appear;
jailed, failed potential! most far since most near
and always 'real' arrives disassembled.
Our deadened eye views the not-sought life.
Dammed waters are stuck. We're stuck like damn knife.