cyborgs works like fire

if this is the mode then build
a floating crag somewhere
the decision, yes, to fill
this crag with fins--
all the world’s literature has
been written on fins

lassoes with one’s eyes closed
you have always seen the ellipses
prose rhythms offer a story
this is so recycled-- give it
to someone else

the water’s proportions ever
a misanthrope in a junk store
or tenured alien removed, it
could be said they “marshaled it out”
onto an ontological King’s throne

make amends tutelage, Ponce
De Leon lies lit from below
a fire requires air which is how
you get machines