“lorde i am 1 / lorde i am 2 / lorde i am infinate” ~jos charles
Gored, we are non-finite. Torn, we are you.
Forlorn, we are one. As you were. I am, too.
Bored, we am playful. Doing chores, we are
Infantle. Just a little. Me, you would be two.
The I is a window, true, one hole. The window
Is an eye with a soul. The whole is a lie, long
Ago. Cis trans gloria truly. Heart full of bowls,
Bowled over, we bowl them. Who patrols
The true boundaries of the games’ rules
Refuses to control hymns, is not her him.
We are many but most one when we legion.
We have heard many hard hearts pledge allegiance.
We are litters littering, literally, regions’ religions.
We are our own fissioning secrets, egregious.
We want you to reflect on your own sequence.
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