Words that ache profound but fail
like juxtaposed and pithy whales,
what do they mean but sure mayhem?
Taste is but definition's whim.
Engorged inflection then becomes
an amoeba inside a vast humdrum,
its path unfurled like fine scrimshaw,
afraid of its own shadow's swim.
Tininess offset by giant hells,
an ego in a test tube's bell,
a green so small its self is lost
in amputation, at what cost?