Aphasia

What we came to expect from that gradual cadence was the feeling that nothing remained to be said, a harbinger of colder and more desolate fortunes. "She buys more socks." As if that sudden switch to the present tense were a panacea for the glum architecture... not only these dark corners but also those which already were bright as day. Which was the least of my extrapolations. The thickets, their self-indulgent fragments, confronted my blazer; but more generally, a slowness and a marked tendency to fatigue, that generous euphemism, took the cake. Tag ends of arguments aimed at nothing at all, the few belongings bearing the tattered emblem of too much shore leave... the yoyos grinning near the horizon.