“Split Infinitive”

“Split Infinitive”

Split infinitive, the cleaver cannot leave a mark;

Whither here or there, I can

Say nothing of it save that in such spaces weightlessness demands

Safe passage through the night, and dawn, the every morn as sparks

In the extremities reveal mere likenesses of divinity, an excess so easily payed

Out as if ‘twere planned or ready bought, a largesse in signs

And light diffused. Humanity’s the excuse, the very line

Drawn in sands that separate here from there as if in an arcade

Where emotion speaks for intelligence and former lovers find a place

To hide within the withered phallus, the wilted orchid for just a little while.

Who will look upon obscenity as a mask of travesty whose caustic smile

Cannot pass the lips nor wisdoms register results within the mind? Efface

From memory the protocols of inertia in the game and such a stench is discerned

That cannot in the end be seen where more than innocence is burned.

 

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