I am that fine point where all things converge
The perch of every bird -- those messengers
buzzing humming thumping zip
What are these poets singing? flashing out so cavalier
its a riff on time, they say
its a riff on time
I am the moving empty thing
invisible and gathered all in bundles --wire lined
fletched light and light winged chittering
all I see unspooled and telegraphed
its a riff on time see
its a riff on time
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