---
poem:  Sumner Rising
     ##01## **{**%%Prelibationary, %%**}**

  ...is
  The autumnal brigandier's day, angrily
  theorizing extemporaneous
  Temporizations, pored extraneously
  of biblical fastidiousness
  Offering my fasting, unprepossesing possessions
  to the babbling, evangelical-gelled rift
  Offing baubles timorously
  of the angel's ordinarily tumorous comings, strenously
  Sodering tenuous plans
  onto believably comely, vertical ash,
  Heaving overtly brash
  or hopeful, overlooking ires to crash,
  In pyres of flaming, lamely empowering earth
  that gyres, scoweringly,
  A towering, aimlessly blameless lee
  or hopelessly underappreciated depreciation --
  And giants of winds devouring leaves, devoutly,
  succour the monstrous seas we leave.

  Demonstrably,
    though gently seething
  Says the genteel sum
    of some of what we've done, soothingly:

    "Our hour
  ...is
      shining come."

     ##01## **{**%%ritual %%**}**

  Woe to ye, you
  woebegone, beguiling archmages
  Staging ageless marches
  for besaged, agoraphobically prophetic archery
  From here until
  a bustling Cerebus guard engages
  Infinity's vaunting, heavenly daunting cherub-sills,
  finitely taunting our Midgaard's middling shrubbery
  Alongside conviviality's mortality, crypto-blubbered business, and
  allaying, lay pride,
  Along a long and cloying, husky bark
  delaying coaxial climbers
  Of this:
  
     Ygdrassil's negentropic abraxas.

     ##10## **{**%%revictuals  %%**}**

  The topographically inmost land
  Is mostly spoken graphically
  Within my softly spok'd, alloying tongue.

  Listen, there are
  archaeolithic, archly tufted cloves
  Of wonder's stillness,

     still.

     ##11## **{**%%to Bacchus.%%**}**

  Isolation solves
  salacious devolution, rapaciously
  Placing violence
  about a violet-dusked rapier's wit;
  Although my voluble revolutions, musketless,
  of pacifism's proto-Darwinism
  Excessively mystically propose
  that lusted War's obsessance
  Optimistically entreat
  with saline sufferance, insufferably,
  We'll moor a
  Holocene's fragily
  Holocrystalline equidistance, equanimously,
  to instant //thisness//:

     This Isolation Age is over.