I am usually
a prim and proper
noun, standing tall
in every sentence –
no tittles or cross strokes
reaching the height of
my definition –
but some days are different:
the
paragraphs are tight
they don’t leave room
for any subject
I cite,
not even in the space
of indentations
so I linger
without transition
between
margins
and sometimes
I feel
my letters
disassemble,
their eyes
zone out
or maybe
well up with tears
finials
taper even more
becoming invisible
legs and
arms start to
wilt
leaving blotches of ink
on the text intact
I feel the
irrelevance
of me
I definitely
feel
the irrelevance
of me
juxtaposed
with the
contents of a rule book
that I never really understood.
Just expunge
me, please.
Paint over me thickly
with the most concealing
whiteout.