At the Crux

     Grieving takes its lyric turns,
         anciently,
            sometimes en pointe.

Gaily experienced and somewhat accidental
The disaster which overtook them
Surrounded the discameled travelers.

In the rain, get your hands off my trickling face!

Sometimes, even when it feels necessary, it’s hard to improve
  upon, much less “Revolutionize Your Life” — as some
  people, somewhat grandiosely, tend to phrase it;

(1) I don’t know about your boss, but my particular employer is certainly exacting. For example: Not too long ago the orders came down from above: no more of this sloppy filing, no more of these simpleminded rectangles and neat but inappropriate manila folders.

The idea of being tried by "A Jury Of One's Peers,"
Which, as we all know, is the pillar & pride of our American
   system of jurisprudence, among others.

You, who live in this world, & claim to understand about everything about life—lyricizing in your written words about how
Love Is At The Heart of Things
(With its lovers coming & going)

This is St. Rafael resigning from the service
Of the mad white queen. St. Rafael is no angel.
But Queen makes comparison possible

ou never get to play it, the rackets
Are always missing or else the net’s dissolved
During the winter, and there are mole holes

The energy chest
One keeps dipping in

With the hand of one’s head