Out with no phone –
out without
that device which is
my ready-coiled rope –
a slack spiral – a bracelet
looped into a throwable
lifeline – unknottable –
loose for when needed –
for my amateur attempts
to lasso my lawless
thoughts –
Each born-weak twine
twisted over many
weak-born twines –
into a thousand strands –
into one unbreakable line –
Verb-spun into itself –
into a readied tethering
which will bear
me – my word weight –
which will tighten
without a tug or hanging –
There is a knowhow
to such coiling –
which was my first
apprenticeship –
which now –
is my last attempt at art
