WENT

Striking out from the offshore gallery
moon pale behind the earth, conveying
ripeness fully later would be of us, before
lifting elements of logic from the grip 
of handsome resolves, which don't fix
anything so much as place us
somewhere unfamiliar. Bonecracking
chainsmoking me went, had, while some
where else one was being as they are. 			
Turned to fold in what might be thought about. 
Might at its least. Cancellation
of landscape. Grey streets. Rain.