We compose
a rhapsody
of run-ons
over dinner
our glossaries
bag enough wind
to sing duets
with sentences
flaunting pages
of footnotes
we intonate
more harm
than harmony
and loose sense
in present tense
cramming clauses
in the margins
of libretto
our verbs yell
fortissimo
oh mamá mía
a new chapter
arguing
virtuosity
in pomposity
the cursive
of beliefs
spell off-key
as overtures
trade scores
like characters
switching novels
until we run
out of print
our tempo
abandoned
to orchestrate
a few words
of forgiveness.
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